


Balance

by CelestePhantasm



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Because the game was deeply unsatisfying, Contains Rewrites, F/M, In connection with OFC's past, Ireggular Updates, KH3 spoilers, Particularly in connection with Riku, Possible Other Characters (Will tag as needed), RIKU DESERVES BETTER, Romance, Smut, Swearing, Takes place in KH3, WIP (AKA I'm writing it when I get the time), Will Tag as Necessary, Will mention dark memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2020-06-30 02:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19843699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestePhantasm/pseuds/CelestePhantasm
Summary: When their first foray in to trying to save Aqua fails, Riku and Mickey have to regroup, power up, and gather information.All's well, until the information part.In Radiant Garden, while poring over information, Riku feels like he's losing it.His head is spinning, and full of static, and his heart is beating so hard in his chest that he's starting to wonder if he actuallylostthat fight in the Dark Realm.When an errand girl walks in to hand Ienzo a letter, however, Rikuknowsthe problem is her.Not that he knows why, or what to do about it.Saving Aqua—and the rest of the worlds—might be harder than he thought.Or easier.





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own _Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy,_ or **ANY** _Disney_ property. I make no profit off this. I'm just writing for fun.
> 
> Hi guys! So, a few warnings, before we get in to things.
> 
> I have only played KH 1, 2, 2.8, and 3. I've _watched Chain of Memories_ but I suck at the card-based gameplay and could not actually get attached to the story. I may retry eventually, but...for now, I watched a playthrough.
> 
> I also have not played _Final Fantasy VII._ I apologize for any OOC traits that might befall those characters.
> 
> Also, having played KH3, I found a great many things in it deeply unsatisfying (story-wise, gameplay was just a _fun_ game, and it's _supposed_ to be) in regards to a lot of pieces, many of which are connected to Riku. He deserves a lot better than the hand he was dealt and I want him to have a happy ending that doesn't involve him staring in the distance and then groaning to himself about, "Ugh. He's my best friend, and he's a fuckin' dumbass, and I have to go save him again. Here we go."
> 
> (I love that they're best buds, no I do not ship them, for a myriad of reasons, predominately because I think Riku sees Sora as the little brother he needs to look after. Also because I think Riku has a deep-set self-hatred that tells him he shouldn't be _allowed_ to have a relationship of any kind because of his past. And thirdly, because there's no way in hell it'd be made canon so I'm not setting myself up for that kind of disappointment.)
> 
> So, this will be a rewrite of sorts for a number of reasons.
> 
> One, I'm aging things up because it does not feel like it's been a two-year journey for everyone, it feels like it's been longer than that. I estimate Riku is 21/22 in my head, so Sora is 20/21, same with Kairi. Guessing Leon and the others would be...what, thirty-ish? And time is weird so don't ask me about everyone else because Aqua hasn't aged a day in a decade. Or Mickey, either.
> 
> Two, Kairi is the laziest piece of writing _ever_ and I'm going to do _something_ about that even if I don't know what, yet.
> 
> Three, Riku deserves some major happiness and I want it for him, so I'm gonna do it myself, since no one else will, damnit.
> 
> This was intended to be a reader-insert (my usual style) but...the character sort of...took on a life of her own and I adore her spunk and strength and I decided she was too good not to make her own self and let her have a name.
> 
> If you want to put in your own name, feel free, but I'm rather proud of her.
> 
> All that said, off you go! Enjoy. I hope you enjoy it, because I'm having a great deal of fun exploring Riku's character and mentally getting to vent out some frustrations with the writing of KH3.

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t stared at him when she walked in.  
  
It’d be the truth if she said she’d _tried_ not to.  
  
But she failed miserably.  
  
_He’s taller than I thought,_ she thought to herself, which was a strange thing, indeed—she didn’t know him, had never _seen_ him before in her entire life. But it struck her, that, somehow, this man seemed…taller than she expected.  
  
He was tall—taller than the average man, and well-built, looking strong enough to heft Cloud’s weapon with very little effort. And he was astoundingly handsome, with the most _striking_ green eyes…  
  
In truth, anyone would be hard-pressed to say that the man wasn’t _conventionally_ attractive, even if he didn’t appeal to everyone.  
  
Maybe that was why she was staring, and why Ienzo had to call her name a couple of times to get her attention. “Are you alright?”  
  
She shook her head, and then nodded, pink peeking through her cheeks. She struggled not to look back at the stranger, “Sorry. Guess I’m tired,” she said, and, technically, that was _not_ a lie. She looked over Ienzo, “You still need a haircut, man.”  
  
Ienzo shrugged off that comment with ease, “You tell me that all the time,” he said, simply, not seeming to lose even the slightest hint of his typical composure, though one might suspect he seemed _fond_ of the woman who’d teased him. “Something else to keep an eye on?”  
  
She pulled a letter out of her pocket, “You mean the one you can see out of?” More teasing, and she said it with a warm grin, this time, “I mean, really, you’re ruining your depth perception, pretty boy.” Still teasing, though she did seem concerned, but she followed that up with a shrug. “Dunno. The Heartless got one of the walls that were under construction, so Yuffie handed this off, thanked me, and sent me on my way.” She rolled her shoulders in a smooth shrug, but her hand reached for her katana. What was _wrong_ with her? She wanted to look back at the stranger, and the urge was almost undeniable. She resisted with all her strength. “You know I don’t stick my nose in things I’m not given explicit privy to, Ienzo.” But she held the letter out for the man, after she let go of the katana.  
  
Ienzo gave her a very rare smile. “You’ve never been the snooping sort,” he agreed, and took the letter. “Thank you.”  
  
“Sure,” she offered. But she couldn’t resist anymore, and her eyes diverted to the stranger again, but this time, he was looking at her—and very intensely, too. She could see past him, this time, and noticed a figure sleeping in a chair behind him. She forced herself to look away. “Need anything, Ienzo? If you don’t, I’ll offer with Leon. Bet the Heartless are hassling them.”  
  
She was lucky enough to earn the trust of Leon and his friends, and, in turn, had been sent on many errands for them, because she was skilled enough to handle the Heartless. She hadn’t minded approaching the old castle, either, though many other citizens hadn’t been keen on the place, after…everything. But Radiant Garden was _her_ home, too, so she wanted to do her part. That meant she offered to help with Leon, _and_ at the castle, very often.  
  
But Ienzo was watching her closely. “His name is Riku,” Ienzo said, directly. “You seem interested.”  
  
It wasn’t exactly a _question,_ but she got the tone of it. “Just…surprised,” she said, and this was another thing that wasn’t _technically_ a lie. “We don’t have a lot of visitors anymore. Old buddy?”  
  
She used the term carefully, because, though she had been open to the returning members of the Organization, not everyone had so willingly accepted them back to humanity. She’d heard bits and pieces of what had happened, and she knew Ienzo hadn’t _always_ been quite so…nice. Always studious and intelligent, but he had darkness in his past. Still, he’d been one of the more open ones, about learning from his mistakes, and moving forward.  
  
“Not…precisely,” Ienzo said, and he was definitely debating. She wondered if it was something he wasn’t ready to admit, or if it was just something he _couldn’t_ say, maybe because it involved the stranger, and maybe said stranger wouldn’t like him saying something private.  
  
“I’ve had enough run-ins with Organization XIII to last a lifetime,” the stranger said, calmly, but she was certain her heart had physically _jumped out of her chest_ when she heard his voice. “But the past is the past. He’s here, and he’s helping,” he said, and he straightened his shoulders, and, _Oh, he really_ is _very tall._ “Just here for a friend,” he added.  
  
She tried to consider those words, but she couldn’t even begin to gather her thoughts. His voice had made her heart jump against her chest so hard that it _hurt._  
  
Ienzo seemed to know something was wrong, and he put a chair under her, immediately starting to inspect her for wounds, and she didn’t seem to know it—not until he called her name a few times.  
  
“Ienzo, I’m fine,” she said, though she was feeling woozy. “I thought I cleared the Heartless okay—it was just the usual groups, nothing to worry about,” she added, but she wanted to grab her chest. “Maybe I took a hit I didn’t notice. I’ll shake it off,” she insisted, trying to bat his hands off, looking embarrassed.  
  
Ienzo, however, would _not_ have that. “You overdo it all the time,” he protested, grabbing her chin, examining her face. “When did you eat last?”  
  
“Ienzo, seriously,” she said, much more forcefully, even if she wasn’t feeling any better. She hated being babied, especially when she was _certain_ she hadn’t gotten hit, and she probably just needed a little nap. “I’m okay, I’m okay!” she said, swatting at his hands again. “Just give me some space for a sec—”  
  
“Stop touching her,” the stranger said, in a voice that made Ienzo drop her _instantly._ “Back off.” He backed away without even a pause, raising his hands.  
  
Even through her dizziness and pain, she could see that the stranger suddenly had a weapon in his hands, and he looked _angry._ He didn’t have the weapon in a position to attack, but she was certain he didn’t need more than a moment to ready it—it was surprisingly large and heavy-looking.  
  
Ienzo shook his head, “I’m not trying to hurt her, Riku,” he said, immediately, looking unsettled. “Just, if she’s hurt, I want to—”  
  
Riku’s weapon disappeared and he immediately moved toward her, and she was nowhere near cognitive enough to make it off the chair and out of the way, but instinct still had a good enough hold to reach for her katana.  
  
But he moved a great deal faster than she thought he _should,_ and he had hold of her hand before she could grab the blade. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, soothingly, his voice astoundingly soft and gentle. She felt herself starting to shake. “Are you alright? Injured? In pain?”  
  
The words falling out of his mouth had an impressive level of urgency in them, as though they’d been forced out of his _soul,_ like he couldn’t have even _begun_ to hold them back.  
  
Her head was spinning so fast she thought she might have just been rolled down the tallest hill in town.  
  
But she answered, without even _meaning_ to do it, “My chest hurts,” she said, but it didn’t sound like she intentionally answered. “My heart,” she added, rubbing beneath her breast, because it _did,_ it _hurt like hell,_ it felt like every word he said pulled on her heart, like he was trying to _rip it out of her chest,_ and yet even when he _wasn’t_ speaking, her heart was beating _so hard_ she thought she might pass out.  
  
And he reached for her almost instantly after she spoke, and anyone else would have been laid out at her feet for what he did, but Riku pressed his hand between her breasts, where she’d just touched, his palm cupping her heart without _actually_ trying to feel her up.  
  
The pain vanished as though it had never been, and she almost _crumpled_ in the wave of relief.  
  
Like there’d been a thousand voices, screaming incessantly in her head, and it was just _gone._  
  
She slouched in to him, overwhelmed by the sensations, and then the _instant_ lack of them. Even the strange pulling on her heart was gone, and her heartbeat was calming, slowing down, feeling a great deal more bearable, _just_ because he was touching her. She should have been upset, or at least _indignant,_ because, a slight shift, and he’d be _groping_ her, but she was _too relieved_ to protest. “You using some kinda spell on me?” she asked, when she couldn’t find the will to try and tell him to get off her. She wasn’t sure she could bear it if all those sensations rushed back, all at once.  
  
“No,” he said, but he didn’t move. He was watching her, and she felt his other hand tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I just…I couldn’t walk away, even if I wanted,” he said, so softly that she had to replay the words in her head. “I feel it, too,” he added, looking at her intently. “That pain, right in my chest,” he said.  
  
His eyes were _astoundingly_ gorgeous, in a way that enraptured her. She was dumbstruck for a second, before instinct reached for him, pressing her palm to his chest, and the man almost _melted_ in to her the second she had her hand on him. He leaned in to her, fractionally, letting out a long, relieved breath, and he exhaled slowly, as though shedding the kind of pain she’d felt only moments ago. “What _is_ this?” She had to ask, the words a little helpless, and infinitely confused. “What’s going on?”  
  
But he shook his head, and he started to move, and then hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said, honestly, but he reached for her. “Can I pick you up? I don’t think I could let go of you if you _paid_ me,” he added, and he sounded a little…rueful.  
  
Hesitating, knowing she _shouldn’t_ just trust him, but feeling that she _could,_ she nodded. He let go of her heart, and she _instantly_ felt the pain rush back, causing her to let out a gasp, but then, a fraction of a second later, she was in his arms.  
  
He was powerful—his muscles weren’t just for show, and he managed to carry her across the room to a larger chair, and settled down in it, letting her down in his lap, and then he was holding her heart again, and she collapsed in to him, her hand finding its way back to his chest, too.  
  
She curled herself in his lap, trying to recover from the burst of pain, and the following relief that had settled on her—both were overwhelming, and almost _unbearably_ intense.  
  
It took almost a minute for her to calm down, for her heart to slow back down under his touch, and as frightened as she was of her reaction to this complete stranger, she reminded herself that he must be trustworthy, to be in the castle, to have Ienzo’s trust, to be here in Radiant Garden and not have Leon throwing a fit.  
  
“I don’t understand,” she murmured, after she had calmed down enough to think. “I don’t know what’s going on.”  
  
He let out a low chuckle that made her heart jump a little. “I won’t pretend I do,” he said, quietly, ignoring Ienzo’s piercing look his way. “But if the only thing I can do is ease the pain for both of us, it’s what I’ll do.”  
  
She hesitated, and then sighed. “I suppose…I suppose that’s the way to go about it,” she admitted, and then laughed. “You’re Riku?”  
  
“Yeah,” he said, and this came a little more easily. His shoulders settled a little, and he had begun to relax, settling down in the chair, not quite so rigid. She suspected he wasn’t used to being _vulnerable_ in any kind of capacity, or at least, that he wasn’t used to _letting_ himself be vulnerable. “I guess you know I’m not a local, too.”  
  
She laughed, “I mean, I’m not _dumb,_ so yeah, I figure you’re an off-worlder. I got thrown to Traverse Town, back then.”  
  
He was quiet for a moment. “Sometimes I forget that Traverse Town was so much bigger than what I saw,” he said, very quietly, and then he shook his head. “What’s your name?”  
  
“Asami,” she said, softly.  
  
“Riku?”  
  
His head shot up, and he found himself looking at his companion. “Hey, Mickey,” he said, very quietly. “Sleep okay?”  
  
Riku knew the king didn’t get to sleep nearly as often as he should—Riku had terrible nightmares, and though he’d tried to train himself to wake when they started, well…controlling oneself in sleep wasn’t as easy as he would like. Mickey had often woken because _Riku_ woke from a nightmare.  
  
Mickey grinned at him, and then looked at the little figure curled in his lap. “Everything okay?”  
  
“Well, I’m not sure,” Riku admitted. He would never have done as much if it was Sora, but Mickey…well, the two had become a great deal closer after all their traveling together. “We’re both in pain, if we’re not touching,” he said. “Feels like she’s trying to pull my heart out.”  
  
Mickey’s eyes grew wide, and then he grinned at Riku so happily that the joy on his face might have been able to smite the Heartless all on its own. “You found your Balance, Riku.”  
  
Riku had _no idea_ what Mickey meant. “…Balance?”  
  
Mickey nodded, and then gave one of his high-pitched giggles. “Well, Riku, you’re a Keyblade Master, now,” Mickey said, and he grinned. “You have mastery of your heart—and the connections to it, you know,” he added. “Sora, Kairi—me, probably even a little bit of Donald and Goofy, too,” he said. “The people who’re pieces of your life are pieces that are there for keeps—the friends we make are friends for life,” he said, and so far, Riku got _that._ “But everyone has a person they’re connected to that is _suited_ to them—not just incidental meetings on the road of life, or childhood friends, but someone out there that is a matching piece.” He paused, and he grinned. “Like a puzzle.”  
  
Riku wasn’t sure he wanted just outright accept what Mickey was saying. He wasn’t _dumb,_ by any measure—Riku was a great deal more intelligent than people might have given him credit for, if they didn’t get to see the deepest parts of him. So he was sure he… _understood_ what Mickey was telling him, though he wasn’t absolutely certain he _believed_ it. “A puzzle?”  
  
“Well, not to say that you’re incomplete by yourself,” Mickey said, quickly. “It’s just that this person, for all of us, has light to even out our darkness, and darkness to even out our light,” he explained. “Not that it means all these people are destined to fall in love, but it’s common,” he added, and he let out a giggle. “It’s not as common, finding your Balance, now that there are so few Keyblade masters, but…Minnie is my Balance,” he said, and he grinned. “It looks like you’ve found yours.”  
  
Riku was very quiet, trying to get the idea through his head. He supposed it made sense, then, that it felt like Asami had been pulling on his heart—even though they’d never met before, he was _connected_ to her. In truth, the minute he’d heard her footfalls ringing through the halls, his heart had started to match her pace. He’d been _feeling_ this since he’d arrived in Radiant Garden and he hadn’t even had an _idea_ as to why he felt disoriented and distracted, why his heart felt so _strange._ Then he’d heard her footsteps, and she’d come in the room, and she’d been teasing Ienzo, and…  
  
Riku couldn’t look away from her the _second_ he’d laid eyes on her. Even though she hadn’t spoken to him, every word out of her mouth made him feel like she was tying a rope, tighter and tighter, around his heart, pulling it with every ounce of strength she had.  
  
Asami managed to at least _try_ to speak, though one couldn’t call it a success, “You…I…we’re…?”  
  
Ienzo had come over, by that point, and was looking at them. “You might have said too much, I think,” he observed.  
  
Mickey started, and then looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained it to Riku, first,” he guessed.  
  
“I think it would’ve been a worse surprise if he’d just marched up to me and told me we’re connected,” she said, and she laughed, but then she rubbed her face, though she couldn’t bring herself to let go of Riku. “You make it sound like…like…we’re supposed to be together. Like we’re supposed to get to know each other and probably fall in love.” She rolled the thought through her head, and then laughed at herself. “I don’t know a thing about Keyblades, or…or any of this,” she murmured, and she held her breath for a long moment. “But you sound happy for him. That gives me some comfort, since…you seem to think it’s a _good_ thing.”  
  
In truth, Asami’s head was spinning so fast, she couldn’t seem to catch any of the thoughts she needed in order to wrap her head around the idea.  
  
The only thing she knew, right then, was Riku’s astounding, strong warmth, and that, at that moment, she _wasn’t_ in pain, because Riku had her in his lap.  
  
It was only a small piece of comfort in the sea of the unknown, but she added to it that the little mouse seemed _very_ happy for Riku, and…surely that was a good thing, wasn’t it?  
  
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Riku said, quietly, but his grip on her tightened, pulling her hip in toward him. “Not until…” he stopped, and swallowed, looking like he was in pain. It took him a moment, “Until all of…this was done,” he murmured.  
  
He looked like he was in agony, and Asami _had_ to react. She leaned in to him, pressing her hand against his heart, taking a breath. “Sounds like you’re in pain,” she whispered, barely a breath.  
  
“It hurts,” he barely murmured, turning his head in to hers, so that he could hide his words from the others. “Thinking of walking away.”  
  
She surprised him with a laugh, and she leaned in, taking one of his hands, tangling their fingers. “Maybe that means you shouldn’t,” she whispered, but then she let out a breath, and she leaned her head against his. “It sounds like we need to talk.”  
  
Riku waited until his heart stopped aching before he managed to gather his thoughts. “…I suppose we do,” he admitted, softly. “I guess…I guess we _have_ to,” he said, and it sounded like it took a lot of effort, to consent to the idea of actually _letting her in._ There were a lot of things he hid, even from himself, and lately, he’d been so focused on so many other things…this was just something else, added to the pile. It was hard to think that he’d have to face up to some of the darker pieces of himself, if they were going to _talk_ about this, because…she was clearly clueless, and rightfully so.  
  
“If we can handle it for long enough, I have somewhere we can go,” she said, softly. “It’s pretty high up. We’d be alone,” she offered.  
  
Riku hesitated, but then nodded. “Yeah. Okay,” he murmured, and he reluctantly let her stand, and the pain surged back, but Asami kept hold of his hand. She checked her katana. “I’ll be back. Is that okay, Mickey?”  
  
The little mouse was already grinning at him. “Take your time.”  
  
Riku followed Asami when she started walking, and the woman only let go of his hand when she leapt forward to strike down any Heartless in her path, and, on this occasion, Riku _let_ her, because it gave him a glimpse of her skill. She was light and agile, and graceful in an astonishing way—she moved like a dancer, and flitted around enemies quickly enough to avoid taking hits.  
  
She was the opposite of him—Riku hit _hard,_ and he usually took the hits with little worry about recovery, because he could take down an enemy fast enough to avoid heavy damage.  
  
But after every clash, she was back at his side, lacing her fingers through his, and Riku wouldn’t deny the relief it gave him, when she had hold of his hand. “Can you tell me about…this? I can wrap my head around the…Balance thing, but uh, Keyblade Master doesn’t sound familiar,” she said, when they were in a quiet spot. “Guessing it’s a weapon, and you’re good at using it, but…it sounds like there’s more to it,” she added.  
  
Riku rolled things over in his head.  
  
Despite what Mickey had told him, about them being connected, Riku was _not_ ready to tell a _total stranger_ about his past and all the things that had led him here, all his past, all the _shit_ that had happened to him.  
  
It was a lot to unload on its own, let alone the emotional baggage he carried around for it all.  
  
So he decided he had to simplify, because…he didn’t _know_ her. He couldn’t just put all his past on a silver platter and hand it to her. He couldn’t.  
  
“Well, you’re right,” he said, at last. “A Keyblade is a weapon. It’s usually used to fight the darkness—it releases hearts when we defeat Heartless, and can restore a Nobody to…their former selves, if we defeat them with a Keyblade.” He paused for a moment. “Mickey and I are Masters—we’ve passed tests that prove we have control over our hearts and our Keyblades.”  
  
Asami saw a batch of Heartless form before them, but instead of striking with her katana, she cast a fierce lightning spell, and the Heartless were gone. “You’ve got control over your heart, huh?” She was quiet for a time, and Riku felt a jolt in his chest, like she’d struck _him_ with a spell. It _hurt_ intensely, but very briefly. “Must be nice,” she said, quietly.  
  
Riku wasn’t the nosy sort, but the pain that had hit him… “Had some troubles with that?”  
  
She took a shuddering breath. “I’d rather not open that can of worms,” she said, a bit stiffly. “It’s not a conversation for a stranger.”  
  
Riku knew what she meant. “Alright,” he agreed, and he saw her relax.  
  
They stopped at a steep rock wall, and Asami nodded. “Hope those muscles aren’t just for show,” she said, and Riku watched her _jump,_ and then start climbing the sheer wall.  
  
He waited until she was above his head before he started to follow her up.  
  
He had a good view of her, if he was being honest—he could see her muscles flexing with every move of her arms and she was breathing steadily, climbing with a grace he wouldn’t have expected, if he hadn’t seen her fight. She moved silkily—not pausing to search for handholds or even to test her grip, while Riku had to search for some spots that she’d slipped by like water.  
  
“There’s a ledge here. Not a big one, but if you need to stop, we should. It’s not quite the half-way point,” she called down to him.  
  
Riku wondered how she’d found this, if _this_ was not even halfway, but he wasn’t tired. “I’m good,” he called back.  
  
The climb took a lot longer than Riku would have thought, but he had a great deal of strength and didn’t feel even very much of a pull in his muscles at the top—but what surprised him was that, aside from a little sweat, Asami didn’t seem affected, either. She waited for him at the top, watching him climb the last several feet, and he turned her down when she offered her help, but she didn’t take any offense; he was clearly physically apt. The top of the wall was flat—sheltered from the wind by ledges on each side, and there was even a small cavern carved in the mountain here.  
  
She settled herself on the ground outside the cavern, and Riku could see why—the town was barely a speck below them, and all they could see was the layout of the world, laid at their feet. It seemed like eternity was before and below them, and the air was crisp so high up.  
  
Riku followed her, settling at her side, and Asami was the one to give in to her wants—she instantly snuggled in to his arm, curling one hand in his elbow, the other lacing their fingers again, and she exhaled sharply. “I think wanting to hold you was worse than the climb,” she murmured.  
  
Riku let himself chuckle. “I won’t tell you it wasn’t,” he admitted, softly. Then, he slipped out of her grip and wrapped his arm around her, and the woman instantly cuddled in closer, letting out a relieved sigh, and Riku’s shoulders dropped, just a little. “That’s…overpowering,” he murmured. “Wanting to hold you.”  
  
She let herself laugh, but Asami was also, quietly, relishing in how _strong_ he felt, and privately thinking that his clothes didn’t reveal _enough_ of him. She could _feel_ his muscles through the clothes and it suddenly didn’t surprise her that he’d managed the wall in one go. “It’s ridiculous,” she found herself saying, but she pressed in to him, finding that she fit neatly under his arm, and he was _warm,_ intensely so. “But…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate it,” she admitted.  
  
Riku chuckled again, but he looked at her beneath his shoulder, and he wondered at how _intensely_ he wanted to pull her closer—in to his lap, right against his chest—how it was so powerful that it was almost a _need._ “Would you let me pull you back in my lap?”  
  
She didn’t verbally respond—instead, Asami climbed right in to his lap of her own volition, but she made a small change to their time at the lab—she faced him.  
  
She was little and lithe, and fitted herself against him instantly, burying her head in his neck, and Riku _couldn’t_ have stopped himself from wrapping his arms around her, even if he’d wanted. He let out a sharp breath, but he felt her shaking. “You okay?”  
  
“Just…overwhelmed,” she said, quietly, a little muffled by his shirt. “I’ve never felt _anything_ like this before.” He felt her breath on his neck, and Riku stiffened, but she let out a laugh. “I’m a grown woman and I feel like some stupid teenager, falling in love for the first time,” she said, and he felt her laugh again. “That…that _stupid_ hormonal high, like it’s the _only_ thing that matters, like you can’t _think_ for how you’re _feeling._ ” She let out a groan, but she was still pressed in to him, unwilling to budge. “And I was the single-minded sort. I had a couple boyfriends, but I was so much more focused on everything else, I never had that…that reckless abandon in a relationship. I never just… _forgot_ everything else. But with you…”  
  
Riku hesitated, and then he sighed. “Can’t say I had the experience, either,” he admitted, but he wasn’t about to tell her why. He couldn’t just tell her he spent his formative years being manipulated and fighting himself and reclaiming himself and learning to be on his own and…  
  
That was a lot to lay out. He was _just now_ learning to be confident again, learning to understand that…he wasn’t a total failure, or that the darkness didn’t have hold on him anymore. He was just now learning to find his own self-assurance again, against the past few years of darkness, and failure, and self-doubt, and self-reprimand, and _self-hatred._ Riku was still learning to be _himself_ again.  
  
So instead, he curled his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his chest, and he let out a long, heavy breath. “There’s…a lot to tell you. A lot I _can’t_ tell you, yet.” He paused, but he let out another of those sighs. “But I don’t think…I can walk away.”  
  
She laughed. “I’d chase after you,” she said, quietly. “I don’t…it’s so _powerful,_ this urge to be with you,” she murmured. “If it doesn’t subside at some point, we’ll fuse, but…” She shook her head, but then let out another laugh. “You can take your time,” she said, at last. “There are…well. I have the impression that I haven’t had quite the same…experience as you, but…there are things that I can’t…” She sounded a little strangled, and Riku stroked his hand down her back, and she let out a reflexive sigh. “Things I can’t tell you, yet. I should, but…it’s not a conversation for a first meeting,” she said.  
  
Riku nodded. “I get that,” he said, quietly, and then he took a breath. “I suppose…you should know,” he started, and he had to take another breath. “We travel a lot. We’ll have to leave at some point.”  
  
Asami shook in his grip, but she gritted her teeth. “It feels like you’re trying to rip out my heart when you bring up leaving,” she murmured, and he heard her gasp. “Not today, are you?”  
  
He felt it in his chest, so intensely that he reached for it, but all he found was her—the warmth of her skin beneath her shirt, the shape of her shoulder blade where he’d first grabbed, and the way she was breathing. He gripped on to her tighter, clutching her in to him, because he _needed_ her there. She seemed to understand, too—she pressed her hand to his heart. “I don’t think I could,” he murmured. “Not today.”  
  
She pressed against him so hard it almost _hurt,_ but Riku _appreciated_ it, because he was tightening his arms on her _just as much._ “Not today,” she said, as though to solidify it. She let out a breath. “Not today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but...I felt like it was a good place to stop. I hope you guys liked it! Please let me know if you want to see more, or if you have any constructive criticisms.
> 
> It's gonna be a slow fic, since I sort of stretched out the timeline, but I just want to have fun with it!
> 
> I work on it when I have the time, so I can't promise an update schedule, but if you guys are cheering me on, I guarantee I'll be more up to writing in my spare time.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own _Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy,_ or **ANY** _Disney_ property. I make no profit off this. I'm just writing for fun.
> 
> So, this didn't get a lot of attention, but I didn't expect it to, as an OC-story—but I did get some kudos, so thank you! (I really sort of figured this thing would disappear within the category, honestly, so the positive feedback is a plus! Thank you all!)
> 
> It's a slow roll, so this chapter is still in the first day they meet.
> 
> Of you go! Enjoy!

She relaxed, a little, but remained pressed in to him, and Riku appreciated it. He wasn’t sure how he’d let her go to climb back down. “So, uh, to…to…have some semblance of progress, that…giant sword you were holding earlier,” she said, and it sounded like she was scrambling for the word. “Was that a Keyblade?”  
  
Riku nodded, and he let go of her with his dominant hand, and summoned it. “This,” he said, and she sat back just enough to look at the weapon, “is _my_ Keyblade,” he said, softly. “Mickey’s is different. This is Braveheart,” he said.  
  
She hesitated, but reached out, finding his hand around the grip of the thing. “Can I…?”  
  
Riku let out a chuckle that she didn’t quite understand. “You can try.”  
  
“I’m stronger than I look,” she protested, but he offered her the giant sword, and she curled her hand around the hilt.  
  
It wasn’t _as_ heavy as she expected, but when he let go, she released him to hold the weapon with both hands, looking up to the tip. It wasn’t sharp like her katana, but she had the distinct impression he could do _a lot_ of damage with it. She brought it down, tilting it, catching the flat part of the blade with one hand, looking at the impressions along the edges. “It’s impressive,” she said, quietly. “You could probably give Cloud a run for his money with this.”  
  
But Riku’s mouth was slightly open, and he was staring at her in surprise. “…You can use a Keyblade,” he said, not quite a question.  
  
“Are there people who can’t?” She was genuinely surprised, and she looked at him, tilting her head.  
  
“Most people have to be bequeathed the ability,” he said, quietly, “or a Keyblade _chooses_ those who are strong of heart,” he said, and he curled his hand around her grip on his Keyblade. He was looking at her with surprise, and a little wonder, now. “Has anyone ever told you that you could use one?”  
  
“Never met anyone who used one, before you,” she said, honestly. “Or if I did, I don’t remember it.”  
  
Riku thought that over, but then he smiled, looking almost…amused. “I bet Mickey knew,” he said, quietly. “Or he at least _thought_ you could.”  
  
She looked confused, and then she laughed. “He seems to think pretty highly of you,” she said. “Maybe he thought your, uh, Balance wouldn’t be…I don’t want to say ‘weak,’ but maybe he thought you would have someone of similar caliber.”  
  
Riku thought about that, and then he smirked at her. “You’re a bit cocky, aren’t you?”  
  
She grinned at him, “Listen, I handed Tifa’s ass to her a few times, and Leon was the one training me.” She tapped her katana with a finger. “I’m anything but a pushover.”  
  
He let that roll through his head, and he watched her. “You ever beat Leon? Or Cloud?”  
  
“Well, I’m pretty sure they were _both_ going easy on me, but I faced Cloud enough times to devise a strategy and he called me the victor. Leon…not quite. Cloud doesn’t use magic. He hits hard as hell, and it fuckin’ hurts, but I’ve got the agility to dodge him. Leon has more balanced skills and he’s harder to predict. I haven’t managed to get Leon to concede a victory.” She grinned at him when he looked surprised, “Told you, I’m not a pushover, babe. I’ll keep trying until I win or I’m defeated. I don’t quit _anything_ easy.” She shook her head. “I’m stubborn as hell.”  
  
Riku laughed, and he waited for a moment, watching her, before he let go of her with his other hand, and he cupped her jaw in one hand, and she surprised him when she leaned in to the touch instinctively, almost nuzzling him. “You might need that, with me,” he said, softly, but he gripped the hand she had on his Keyblade. “Would you let me train you to use this?”  
  
She let herself lean in to his touch, surprised by how _gentle_ he was, despite his astounding strength. “More time with you? Of course,” she said, quietly, but she surprised him when she reached for him in turn, cupping his jaw, feathering her thumb along his cheek, fluttering on the corner of his lips. She watched him. “I’ve got…I’ve got this feeling,” she said, quietly, “that you can’t…stay. Not long, even if you’re training me,” she whispered, and he saw a surprising thing—tears, barely glistening in the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back. “Would you…could you, I mean,” she started, but then she huffed, frustrated, and she let go of him to rub her eyes. “Do you have a place to stay, while you’re here?” She tried to stop herself—Riku saw her bite her lip—but more words spilled out, “You can stay with me, if you want.”  
  
He hesitated, and she saw his eyes jump from hers, to the Keyblade, to her katana. He stared at the blade she carried for almost a minute, before he finally looked back at her. “I…do have other places I could stay,” he said, carefully, rolling it through his head. There was space on their Gummi Ship, and it was unlikely that they’d begrudge him a place if he asked at the castle, but…  
  
But the thought of _leaving_ her made his entire body _ache._ The pain was almost enough to remind him of the first time he’d gotten swallowed by the darkness, when Ansem had taken him over.  
  
The result was him scooping her in to him, holding her closer, until he buried his face in her shoulder. “I’d like to stay with you,” he said, at last, muffled by her clothing. “But I should warn you that I’m…I, uh, I have…nightmares.” He had trouble admitting to it, getting the words out, _confessing_ that he was… _abnormal._ “I don’t mean like…little kid nightmares, I mean, I wake up with my Keyblade in my hand, ready to attack _anything_ near me,” he said, as fast as he could, because it was _ridiculous,_ he was a _grown man_ and he should be able to _do something_ about it, but…  
  
But he woke up so often, not always with his Keyblade, but often enough that Mickey had learned to take frequent naps, because Riku was such an ill sleeper. It couldn’t be helped, in truth, but Riku didn’t want to face up to the fact that it would take _time,_ and he wanted to work on it _now,_ because…  
  
Well, part of Riku’s recovery was having _control_ of himself again, and this was something he _couldn’t_ control, and that was something he deeply, inherently didn’t like.  
  
As soon as he had her clutched close, however, Asami gasped, and then let go of the Keyblade, and wrapped both of her arms around his neck, stroking his silky, silver hair. “That’s okay, honey,” she said, when she managed to recover from the shock of having him pull her so _tightly_ to him, and to this very sudden lack of confidence. Even in his earlier confusion, at their first meeting, he’d acted on instinct and done what he thought was right, even though he had as little clue as her.  
  
But he seemed so much _younger,_ suddenly, and Asami held on to him, letting out a little breath. “It’s alright,” she said, but then she stroked a hand down his back, between his shoulder blades. “I have an extra bedroom,” she said, gently, “if you’re worried about waking me.” She paused, feeling him relax, just a hair. “But if you want to stay with me, we can see how it goes. I’ve had my own nightmares,” she said, quietly. “Still have them. Not as much as you’re implying about yours, but…I’ll stay out of your way, if you’re afraid you might…lash out.”  
  
“I don’t think it’s something you should find out firsthand,” he said, honestly, but he was slowly starting to relax, especially once she started to pet him. He didn’t realize he’d been so…so _wound up_ about what she might think. “Maybe I should stay in the spare bedroom, at first.”  
  
She nodded, but then let herself act on instinct. She kissed his hair, softly, letting out a sigh. “Okay. That’s fine.” She waited a moment, and then pressed another small kiss against his head. “But don’t…don’t be afraid to come get me, if you can’t sleep, okay? I don’t mind if you amuse yourself, but…I, uh, I’ve lived alone for a while. Might startle me a bit, if I hear you puttering around.”  
  
Riku suspected that she was telling the truth…or, as much of it as she could. But he also thought it likely that she _wanted_ to help him, on top of something deeper, that she couldn’t quite admit, yet. “Okay,” he agreed, even if he knew he wouldn’t ask for help, in the moment. He just wasn’t that type.  
  
But he let her go a little, and she sunk back in to his lap, and Riku felt the Keyblade slide from between them. He grasped it, but allowed it to vanish, before he turned back to her. “I don’t think I can tell you everything, yet—I don’t even know where I’d start,” he said, quietly, “but…you need to know,” he started, and he took a breath. “We’re doing dangerous things. There’s someone out there, trying to start a war that could end the worlds,” he said, carefully. “And I can’t stay here for long, you’re right…but I want to take the time to teach you,” he said, softly. “Maybe it’ll give you an edge over the Heartless here.”  
  
She hesitated for a long moment, and then reached for him, stroking his hair away from his eyes. “I’ll do my best,” she said, softly, “if you promise to come back.”  
  
Riku felt like she’d actually _reached right through his chest and pulled his heart with all her strength._ It was such a powerful, physical sensation that he leaned in to her, because he _had to,_ or he’d lose his mind. “I can’t make that promise,” he said, honestly, “but I can make the promise that I’ll try.”  
  
She took a sharp breath, but she cradled his jaw in one hand, the other holding the back of his head. “I guess I’ll have to accept that,” she agreed, but she leaned in a little more. “You have the most beautiful eyes, Riku.” They were such _gorgeous_ eyes, with so many shades of green—his eyes were deeper than the Great Maw, by her measure. “It wouldn’t be hard to get lost in them.”  
  
Surprising her, he seemed to _blush_ at the compliment, and she laughed softly. But he leaned his forehead against hers, and let out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “Thank you,” he said, quietly. “I haven’t had them back for long,” he said, meaning to tease—just trying to get them out of the gloomy, dark thoughts of having to part—but then, he realized she wouldn’t understand, and he let out a little groan. “There’s so much I should tell you.”  
  
“You don’t have to,” she said, softly. “I can wait.”  
  
Riku let himself do what his heart was begging him to do, and he let some of his weight in to her, leaning in to her, pulling her against his chest, but he let himself almost _melt_ in to the grasp she had on him, and for just a moment, just a _breath,_ he took this in, because…  
  
Being with Asami seemed to calm all the stormy, swirling thoughts that tended to plague him, and he felt _sane_ again, like he had some small sense of normalcy.  
  
Which, really, meeting her was _even more insane_ because it piled so much on top of what he was already dealing with, but…  
  
With her, his heart seemed to settle. He felt more _at peace_ with her close, like something inside him had slowed and released and that he wasn’t hung up in _everything else._  
  
She surprised him when she ran her hands through his hair, until Riku was almost _limp_ against her, and she shifted, pulling his head to her shoulder. “You’re exhausted,” she said, softly, and he felt her hand on his chest. “Deep in here. I feel it,” she murmured, and he felt her fingers trace along the line of his left pectoral. “Why don’t you let me take you home? I can cook, and you can get some rest. You can train me tomorrow,” she suggested.  
  
Riku knew he should tell her no. He should tell her that they should get started, so she could make the most of what little time he and Mickey would have on this world.  
  
But in her arms, he could _feel_ her warmth, not just physically—the warmth and strength of her heart, and it felt like something he could _lean_ on, which was a strange, scary feeling. But he _thrilled_ in the way it felt like…she was an anchor, like he could let himself breathe with her. “Okay,” he breathed. “I should tell Mickey.”  
  
She surprised him again with a small, soft kiss on his head, and Riku _melted_ in to her. He _was_ tired, in a place that he would never let anyone else see, because, really, it wouldn’t _ease_ until he had space to himself, until all of this was over, and he knew that time was approaching _so fast,_ and he could tough it out.  
  
But she knew somehow, and it felt like, being with her, he could let that out.  
  
Just for now.  
  
“Come on, honey. Let’s get down from here. We can let this all sink in overnight.” She pulled back from him, just a little, and she smiled. “Think you can make it down the wall?”  
  
Riku _forced_ himself to pull away from her, as much as he could, and she got to her feet, and it felt _awful_ again, like there was static in his head, and his chest hurt. He felt almost _dizzy_ compared to the peace he had with her in his arms, but he made it to his feet, and she curled her fingers between his, and the buzzing in his head ceased. “I’m tempted to piggy-back you down,” he admitted. “I feel it all come back, when I’m not touching you.”  
  
She grinned at him, and she watched him for a long moment. “I’d rather not risk that kind of fall,” she said, but she looked almost…mischievous. “But I think I could distract you, if you’re willing to take a bit of a risk.”  
  
Something prickled at the back of his neck, but it definitely wasn’t fear. He watched her in return, and his hand tightened on hers, afraid to wrap her in his arms, because he wasn’t sure he could let go again. “And what kind of risk are you talking about?”  
  
“I’m suggesting that I surprise you and try to get your mind on something else before we try climbing down,” she said, honestly, “although, the way we’re reacting, it might be a bit mean of me to make the attempt.”  
  
Riku thought he knew what she was suggesting, but then, he also barely knew her. He felt that same strange, excited prickle at the back of his neck, and he knew he couldn’t tell her _no._ As much as he’d matured, Riku _still_ had some propensity for risk, and he was still _curious_ and liked pushing the limits. “If you think it’ll keep us from thinking of the pain,” he said, at last, “I’m in.”  
  
Asami watched him for a long moment, and then she moved in to him, and she reached up, tangling her fingers in the hair at his nape, fitting her body in to his, watching him intently.  
  
Riku’s breath caught.  
  
But when she moved again, he _had_ to act, and his free hand swept down, curling around her waist to find the base of her spine, and he felt her breath on his lips, and Riku _stopped thinking._  
  
He felt goosebumps rise all over—it felt like the _air_ was filled with electricity.  
  
She paused for so long that Riku thought he might _shatter,_ but then her lips were on his, and she was _right,_ he didn’t even _remember_ what that pain felt like.  
  
Her kiss was electric—the very first touch of her lips sent a shock down his spine so intensely that the only thing he could do was move in to her, pull her closer, seeking relief from the feeling, and yet _reveling_ in it.  
  
He let go of her hand to tangle his hand in the loose hair that was too short to braid, _needing_ to hold her somehow, and Asami fit against him like…  
  
_Like she was made for him._  
  
He was breathless before he knew it, and when she broke away, his hand jumped to her braid, pulling her back in, and she let out a breathy sound against his lips that made him pick her up with one arm, and a thought reminded him that he might be bruising her, but he couldn’t _think._  
  
“Fuck,” she breathed against his lips, and he _agreed,_ because…Riku definitely didn’t have the experience someone his age _should,_ for a variety of reasons, but he _knew_ what he wanted to do, he wanted to kiss her until she forgot how to breathe, he wanted to pull her so tightly to him that their clothes didn’t fit in the space between their bodies, he wanted to—  
  
“Fuck,” he said, breaking the kiss again, and she leaned in, trying to pull him back, but he was panting, and he managed to pull at her braid just enough to keep her away, or he knew he’d _never_ manage to stop her. “Fuck. Damn,” he breathed, and he put her down, and the pain _rushed_ back, but it was muffled by the urgent surge of hormones that wanted to feel her lips again, by the intense desire to figure out _exactly_ what she was wearing on her lips, because she tasted _sweet_ and he wanted so much more.  
  
He stumbled back one step, as far as he could _make_ himself, and she was almost _blurry_ to him, but her lips were swollen, darker than before, and Riku had to swallow down the noise he wanted to make. He’d loosened her braid, and her eyes were _wild,_ and she was _clearly_ trying to recover, too. She took a sharp breath, pulling at her hair. “Fuck,” she said, “I didn’t…I didn’t think it’d…”  
  
She rubbed the spot between her breasts, and he saw her straighten her shoulders and tilt her head up and her eyes snapped shut and she held her breath. “I’m…I’m going down. I’ll hurry. You can follow me.”  
  
And she was _gone,_ and Riku felt empty and _bereft_ and his body ached, but he waited until she was at least twice his body length below him, before he managed to haul himself over the edge and start the climb down.  
  
She moved with a speed he admired, and when she hit the bottom, she cut through the Heartless with a viciousness he didn’t expect, so he waited until the enemies were gone before he dropped to his feet. “Are you alright?”  
  
She let out a slow, steady stream of air. “I’m fine,” she said, softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” she said.  
  
Riku let himself chuckle, and then, he _had_ to reach for her, _needed_ her in his arms, and he curled one around her waist, pulling her closer, but he didn’t fit her to him the way he wanted—he just needed _some_ kind of hold on her. “I don’t think you knew we would react that way,” he said, gently, “so don’t worry about it.”  
  
Despite the fact that he didn’t pull her in to him, Asami still moved close, though she seemed to be holding herself back. She buried her face in his shoulder, knowing they were secure for a moment, after she’d destroyed the Heartless. “Still. I should have been a bit more careful, the way we’ve been reacting to start,” she said, and then she shook her head. “Do you still want to stay with me?”  
  
“Yes,” he said, before he could overthink it. “I do.” He let himself hold her a little tighter, his hand between her shoulder blades, relishing the warmth of her. “It might just be necessary not to… _indulge_ any particular temptations.”  
  
She let out a laugh, but she laid her hand on his heart, and let out a sigh. “Yeah.” But she pulled away, a little, and then stood on her toes, and she carefully, gently kissed his cheek. “Thank you. You have more self-control than me, I think,” she said, thinking of how he’d pulled her braid to hold her back. “We should go see your friend. Tell him what’s going on.”  
  
Riku was astoundingly grateful that the little kiss on his cheek hadn’t roused that _insane_ urge to pull her back to him, so he nodded. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he told her, honestly, but he gave her a little smile. “Yeah. I’ll explain. I think Mickey won’t mind.”  
  
They walked back together, and this time, Riku took on the Heartless, too; where it took her a few strikes for some, Riku could decimate even the strongest one in a single stroke, and there were a couple times that she just _watched_ him, in awe of his power.  
  
But when the Heartless were gone, he curled his arm around her and pulled her close, knowing no enemy in this world could put them at any risk.  
  
They found Mickey at the edge of the castle, staring at the place he knew they’d lost Terra to Xehanort.  
  
“Mickey?”  
  
The mouse whirled to face them, and found Riku holding Asami close in one arm, her own around his back. “You two seem a little more at ease,” he observed, noting the way they had settled in, comfortable with touching each other, almost instinctively lingering together. “Did you have enough time?”  
  
Riku hesitated for only a second before he shook his head, and he waited, looking at Asami, before he called his Keyblade. He offered it to her, and though she glanced at Riku, she took the blade in her hand.  
  
Mickey didn’t seem shocked, and Riku tilted his head, just a little. “You knew, didn’t you?”  
  
“I suspected,” he admitted, and he looked at Asami. “It’s not uncommon, for your Balance to be able to use a Keyblade, but I didn’t want to make the guess before you’d had time to talk to her.”  
  
Asami looked at the mouse for a moment, and then she kneeled, though her free hand jumped to take hold of Riku’s. “You thought he might try to leave without seeing any of this out,” she guessed. “He’d want to protect me.”  
  
This time, Mickey _did_ look surprised. “I thought he might try to leave without letting your connection settle,” he said, honestly. “Riku tends to…” He stopped, and he glanced up, meeting Riku’s eyes. “He tries not to get close, when he can. He’s been through a lot. He has his reasons,” Mickey advised, “and I don’t want to force his hand.”  
  
Asami waited for a moment, and then looked up at Riku. She squeezed his hand. “I can tell,” she said, softly. “I can feel it.” She waited again, just looking up at him, and her hand tightened on his. She looked back at Mickey. “He wants to train me,” she said, at last, and she watched Mickey closely. “Said it might give me an advantage. I offered to let him stay with me, for whatever time he can have. Would it bother you?”  
  
Mickey gave them an enormously, glowingly bright smile. “I think that’d be a good thing,” Mickey said, immediately. “I can check out a couple other leads,” he said.  
  
Asami stood up, and Riku immediately curled his arm around her waist again, and took his Keyblade back. It vanished, and he looked at Mickey. “…Be careful,” he said, very softly. “Come and get me if _anything_ goes wrong.”  
  
Mickey laughed. “I’ve got it,” he assured, but he looked at Asami. “We need to get _you_ a Keyblade. Why don’t we go see Yen Sid, Riku, and take care of some vestments and getting her a Keyblade?”  
  
Riku, almost instantaneously, looked stricken. “I’m not taking her with us—not to the Realm—”  
  
“No, I didn’t think you would, but it will _still_ protect her, Riku.” Mickey paused, and he met Riku’s eyes sternly. “She’s clearly well-trained and can fight on her own, but you’ve _seen_ what’s been seeping out of the Realm of Darkness. You _know_ that none of these worlds are perfectly safe.”  
  
Riku’s shoulders tensed, and instinctively, he pulled Asami in to his chest. “I—” He wanted to argue, but found himself closing his mouth a moment later. “You’re right,” he agreed, and he let out a breath. “Okay.”  
  
Mickey smiled.  
  
Asami joined them on a trip to Yen Sid’s tower, and the old Master looked her over appraisingly. “A fitting match for someone of Riku’s caliber,” he said, quietly. “I can see your strength. With the right training, I expect you would advance as quickly as Riku.”  
  
She blushed, feeling cornered. “I’ve had to be strong,” she said, and Riku was surprised that the words sounded almost… _defensive._ “I’ve been competitive and determined my whole life. I pushed as far as I could and…and I lost people I loved,” she said, quietly. “And I’ve been broken. But you can either build yourself back up and keep fighting, or you can give up. I’ve never been a quitter.” There was something in her words that made Riku want to gather her in his arms, but there was also a steel in her voice. “Riku told me things were…not good. That they were doing dangerous things. I’ll do what I can to make sure I’m not in a position that he ever has to defend me.”  
  
Riku couldn’t help it, this time—he pulled her closer to him with one arm, shaking his head. “You don’t have to worry about that.”  
  
“I will, anyway,” she said, softly, and she met his eyes. She smiled. “I feel it,” she murmured, and she put her hand to his heart. “You’re giving. You’d worry about me anyway, but I don’t want you to _fear_ for me.” She shook her head, “I’m a fighter. I’m not going to back down from anything. Push me as hard as you can, and we’ll both be happier.”  
  
Riku curled both his arms around her shoulders, feeling the pull in his chest like she was trying to rip his heart out, but it felt _good._  
  
Somehow.  
  
He held his breath and let it out slowly. “We’ll see.”  
  
She held him in return, but when their feelings settled a little, Riku finally let her go, though he hovered close to her. Yen Sid was _almost_ smiling. Almost. “I would advise the two of you to consecrate your bond before Riku leaves,” he said, carefully. “It would be a risk if he left without you, with your bond still fresh. He would be distracted, at best.”  
  
Riku glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and saw that she was just as confused as he was. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I see Mickey didn’t give you the particulars,” Yen Sid said, and he conjured a book. The two stepped forward, Riku nudging Asami gently, and he looked at the tome over her shoulder. “For those who can both wield a Keyblade, the ceremony is simple—you give to your Balance a piece of yourself, something of importance. It becomes a new Keyblade—or enhances the one you have, in certain cases.”  
  
The images in the book were plain enough—two figures, offering each other a glowing object, probably meant to represent the keychain it would become. Another image—of the two figures standing together, their hearts connected.  
  
There were words along the edges of the images, which the two skimmed.  
  
“It, uh, seems to hint that there’s more to the…bond,” Asami noted aloud, not _quite_ blushing.  
  
“The most powerful part is the willingness to share a part of yourself with your partner—something important to you. Only you can decide what that is, but it’s likely to be something you’ve had for many years—something that is personally important to you.”  
  
Asami thought back to her home in Radiant Garden. She thought she had a number of ideas as to what that would be.  
  
But she also didn’t _know_ Riku, even though she could feel the powerful connection to him, even though she _knew_ she could trust him, in her heart.  
  
But her head and her heart were separate entities, and her head knew all too well that things weren’t always what they seemed.  
  
She waited before she turned to Riku, and she let out a breath, settling herself against his chest. “Okay. I think we get it,” she said, quietly.  
  
Riku nodded, and he kept her in his arm, but he looked at Yen Sid, and then Mickey. “How long will you need for the vestments? I’ll take her to the foot of the tower while we wait, if that’s alright. Give her the Keyblade.”  
  
Yen Sid nodded and gestured. “Mickey can collect you when they’re ready,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's seen as "Mary-Sue" to have an OC carry a Keyblade. But the ability evidently is not _nearly_ as rare as one might have thought in the first game, and I'm sort of thinking one would have to be tough to be the partner of a Keyblade Master, so...it's reasonably justified. I personally picture Minnie carrying a Keyblade, myself, but she tries not to use it unless circumstances are dire—so as to hide her skill. We see in the second game that she can, in fact, use magic, so...theoretically, she may be capable of bearing a Keyblade, and just not show that ability.
> 
> Of course, that's all speculation on my part. Mickey seems to be a bit more _sneaky_ in the KH universe than he is in other iterations of himself, so I might just be reading things oddly.
> 
> Anyway, I'm editing when I post, so if you see errors, please let me know! I always want to improve my writing.
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome, and I'm happy with any kind of feedback! If you let me know you're liking it, it's a lot easier to write. I'm mostly writing for myself at the moment, so I'm taking whatever pace I want.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own _Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy,_ or **ANY** _Disney_ property. I make no profit off this. I'm just writing for fun.
> 
> Hi guys! It's been a bit longer for this chapter, but my free time is never certain, so...here it is.
> 
> Thank you all for reading along so far!
> 
> Enjoy!

Riku led Asami to the foot of the tower, and for several moments, they just stood, looking at the strange space Yen Sid had chosen for his home. It was hard to tell where they were—but it was beautiful. “I suppose you see things like this all the time,” she murmured, after a few moments.  
  
Riku shook his head, and he pulled at her, until they were sitting on the bottom step, and though she was looking at their surroundings, Riku had at least half of his attention on her, watching her take it in. “No. I’ve seen…many things,” he said, wondering if he could—if he _should_ —tell her the truth of it all. “Yen Sid’s tower is…strange. Remote. Most other places have more of a sky, they’re not just… _floating._ ” He let out a chuckle. “Some places are snow-covered. I’ve seen worlds with skyscrapers and cityscapes, but I’ve seen many that’re more…villages,” he said, trying to place the word. “Everywhere is different.”  
  
She turned to him, watching him for several moments, but she finally scooted closer, and Riku automatically curled his arm around her, pulling her in. “Sounds like a lot of traveling,” she guessed.  
  
“Yes…and no.” He thought for a long moment, and then shook his head. “I’ll tell you,” he said, softly, “but not yet. Not…not the first day,” he said, and his laugh wasn’t quite true. “I don’t think I can face up to it with someone else. It’s…I’m still coming to terms with it,” he told her. “It’s…I’m working on it.”  
  
“It’s okay,” she said, keeping her voice low, and gentle. “We have time.”  
  
Riku didn’t want to tell her that they probably _didn’t_ have time.  
  
Instead, he leaned in to her, letting himself rely on her, for a moment, when he felt like he could.  
  
She felt… _safe._ Sane. A world away from the darkness creeping in from every angle.  
  
He gathered her in his arms and only waited for her to nod before he pulled her in his lap, and he wrapped himself around her, burying his nose in her hair. “I should give you your Keyblade,” he said, softly, letting himself change the subject, when she’d given him the out.  
  
She smiled, and she curled her arms around his neck. “Probably,” she agreed. “We came here for that, right?”  
  
He chuckled, and he reached in his pocket, withdrawing a little chain. It had a similar charm to his—Mickey’s ears—but he knew hers would be very different from his.  
  
She took it from him, and she waited a moment. “This is…?”  
  
“It helps you summon it,” he said, and he held his arm away from her, summoning his own weapon. Dangling from the hilt was the very same chain. “Just try it.”  
  
She seemed skeptical, but she took a breath, looking at the item. She pulled away, a little, and pointed her arm out of his range, and she closed her eyes.  
  
Her eyebrows twitched, a little, and her shoulders tightened and pulled back, and Riku saw her lift her chin, like she was straightening herself up for a fight, maybe.  
  
Her hand shook, and then, he saw her hand flash tighter—  
  
Around the hilt of her _own Keyblade._ One she had _summoned,_ with no more than a casual, _just try it._  
  
She opened her eyes, and they trailed up the shape of the weapon, which looked…misleadingly delicate.  
  
It looked like a steel pole, caged in an oval, cross-hatching prison of fine wrought-iron. The edges seemed dulled, but she knew they were sharp—as sharp as her katana.  
  
The tip of the blade crested in a purple that faded to red, in the shape of a sharp dagger—triangular at the tip, it widened to two points, narrowed and then widened out to the rest of the blade, as though it had been corseted.  
  
Her eyes lingered on that part of the weapon for a long time. “I don’t suppose you designed this?”  
  
“It tends to take the shape that suits its master,” he said, and he knew something was _wrong._ He could feel it. “You don’t like it,” he guessed, but he was certain it wasn’t _that._ It was something more, something he couldn’t read—something he couldn’t _reach_ inside of her, yet. He wasn’t close enough—they barely knew each other—but he was a little surprised that he couldn’t _sense_ whatever this was, considering all he could read already. It seemed odd, but he wondered if maybe…maybe it was something she was _protecting._ Like everything _he’d_ been through.  
  
“It’s…” She trailed off, and let out a laugh, but it didn’t sound _right._ She rubbed her side, suddenly. “I suppose it’s appropriate. But it isn’t what I would have pictured of myself,” she said, very quietly. “But then, I’ve made a great effort to take even the worst parts of my past and turn them in to weapons—to move forward. This is just…more literal than I expected.”  
  
Riku hesitated, and he reached out, curling his hand around the hand she had on the weapon. “Are you alright?”  
  
She seemed startled, and for a moment, she almost pulled away, and then she settled, when she met his eyes. It took her a few seconds. “Just…well, I’ve got some of those spots I’m working on, too,” she said, quietly. “It’s, uh…well, I’ll…I’ll tell you. One day. But not…not now. It’s not a story for a first meeting, or a stranger, even if we’re supposed to be together,” she said, and he heard how much she believed those words. “It’s not a story for someone who doesn’t trust to sleep in the same room as me yet.”  
  
Riku was surprised, and he opened his mouth, closed it, and then tried again. “I just…don’t want to hurt you,” he said, honestly. “I wouldn’t ever want that.”  
  
She smiled at him, “That’s exactly why I can’t tell you, yet,” she said, softly, and she waited, before she leaned in, and she softly kissed his cheek. “I need you to understand that I’m not fragile, _before_ I tell you…all of this.”  
  
It made him curious, but Riku had already had his fill of curiosity.  
  
He’d gotten in more than enough trouble for that, in the past.  
  
He could let it be.  
  
Instead, he pulled her close. “I don’t think you’re fragile,” he said. “I just…” He stopped, and his eyes dropped to her shoulder. He had tensed. “I’m more…afraid of _myself,_ than I am doubting _you._ ” He waited a moment, lifting his eyes to hers. “Does that make sense?”  
  
“It does,” she said, softly, and she gently caught his jaw with her hand, tipping his head to look at her. “But I’ll still wait, until you can trust me—my strength,” she said, very quietly. “I want you to know that…if something _did_ happen, that you know I could handle myself. And that I would do whatever I needed to _help_.”  
  
Riku felt it in his chest, how much she meant that, and it made him pull her right against him, holding his breath, because it was such a _powerful_ feeling. His head dipped toward hers, but he pulled back before he could meet her lips, yet she _knew._  
  
She lifted in to him, kissing him, and her Keyblade vanished for her to curl her other hand around the back of his head, gently tangling in his silky hair.  
  
Riku dropped his own weapon, pulling her in to him so tightly it was hard to breathe, but he _needed_ her that close, and something in him slipped, in that moment—he _kissed_ her, truly kissed her.  
  
She gasped in to his mouth when his fingers pulled at her braid, loosening it enough to tangle his fingers in her hair, tipping her up and in to him, and then she let out another noise that gave him a thrill. He didn’t know much about relationships or kissing, which meant his kiss was, like most things he did, intense and driven and _focused,_ but Asami gave in with ease.  
  
He was, physically, stronger than her, but she had experience he didn’t, and when she had to break away for a gasping breath, she pulled at his hair, whimpering softly. “I think your lungs are bigger than mine,” she breathed against his lips, but then she was kissing him again, controlling it for a moment, using the opportunity to softly nip his lip, teasing him with her tongue.  
  
He broke away again, this time to laugh, and he buried his face in her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he _did_ sound breathless. He took a few moments to calm himself, but he was still breathing in the scent of her. “I can’t seem to control myself with you,” he admitted, quietly, but he didn’t look at her, yet. It was that same feeling of the first time she’d kissed him—the unbearable want for more, making his body ache, like he _needed_ her. “I always want more.”  
  
She stiffened, just for a moment, and he heard her exhale sharply. But then she leaned in to him, “I know,” she said, very quietly. “I want it, too.” She paused, and then she began to relax, and he felt her eyelashes kiss his skin. “It scares me, a bit,” she admitted.  
  
Riku shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I hope you know I won’t ever…I won’t do that, not unless you want.” He paused, and he pulled back a little bit, and he gently tipped her head up. “I promise.”  
  
She looked surprised, and for a moment, her face went blank, but he saw her bottling so much up at once—he saw the flash in her eyes, and he saw _fear_ and _anger_ and _resolve,_ all at once. She didn’t wrestle away from him, but Riku knew he needed to let her move, so he let go of her jaw, and she was still—only breathing, not pulling away from him.  
  
It took her almost three minutes to move.  
  
“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe you right away,” she said, so quietly that he was glad he was looking at her so intently—he got part of it out of reading her lips. “It’s not you. Just a…personal policy,” she said, still just as quietly. Her breathing was just a little shallow, but after a moment, her shoulders relaxed, just a little. “I’m not afraid of you, by the way,” she said, softly, but this, he was perfectly able to hear. “More…nervous about…how this feels,” she said, and she let out a breath. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Riku didn’t know if he should pull her closer, or let her go. He didn’t know if she had…  
  
His gut twisted and he felt _sick,_ because, what if…  
  
But if that was the case, maybe he shouldn’t give in to the urge to hold her so much.  
  
He thought about what she’d said, about not thinking she was fragile.  
  
In truth, she’d steeled herself to say these things, like she was prepared to fight him off, if she had to.  
  
He waited, and then he took her hand. It let him hold her, but gave her room to pull away, when he _desperately_ wanted to hold her close, comfort her, yet he didn’t know if she _needed_ that, or if she would prefer space, instead.  
  
“It’s alright,” he said, and he squeezed her hand, gently. “You don’t have to be comfortable with me, yet.”  
  
She hesitated, and then she let out a sigh. “I know,” she said, very quietly. “But…there’s a big part of me that is,” she admitted. “It’s just…”  
  
She trailed off, but couldn’t seem to find the words.  
  
So Riku pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, gently. “It’s alright.”  
  
She nodded, and for a moment, he thought she might pull away from him.  
  
But instead, she leaned in, and burrowed her face in his neck, curling her arms around his middle. “Thank you.”  
  
They sat together for a long time, and eventually, Asami let herself curl up in his lap.  
  
Mickey found them like that, curled around each other, and he tapped Riku gently on the shoulder. “It’s ready.”  
  
Asami stirred slowly, pulling away, rubbing her eyes, and Riku, too, seemed sleepy.  
  
But they got to their feet and climbed back to the top of the tower, where a pile of clothes were waiting for Asami. Yen Sid gestured at the double doors leading off the room. “You can change in there. We’ll make sure it fits.”  
  
She gathered the garments and took them with her, and she changed quickly. There were a few mirrors in the room—and she took the time to undo her braid, because Riku’s affection had loosened it to the point that it was nearing useless. She regathered the strands and began to twist it back in to the shape she wanted, once she was satisfied that the outfit was functional—and, somehow, suited her _very_ well.  
  
It was somewhere between blue and purple, a soft color that brought out the blue of her eyes. They’d given her a pair of pants that were covered by combat boots, and she wore the black shirt she’d donned before, but she had a jacket not very unlike Riku’s—the difference was the striping on the sleeves, which were the same, soft purple as her pants. Her gloves shielded up to an inch from her elbow, and the plaid markings on her jacket were mirrored in a small stripe at the top of her boots, and her gloves.  
  
She was still braiding her hair when she reentered the room with Riku, Mickey, and Yen Sid. “It fits,” she said, softly, and she twisted her hair tie neatly around the braid. “Thank you.”  
  
Riku was staring at her, and Mickey lightly nudged him. “It wouldn’t do to not have you well-protected,” Mickey replied. “Riku may have his reservations about taking you with us, but you should be protected.”  
  
Asami found herself smiling. “I suppose that makes sense. I’ll do my best to look after myself, though, I can assure you,” she said, and Riku realized she had her calm and confidence back. “I only just met him, but…I couldn’t have Riku coming home to a broken heart, could I?”  
  
Riku started to reach for her, but held himself back. “Can you summon your Keyblade?”  
  
It was Yen Sid’s low voice, and Asami hesitated, before she reached out again.  
  
Riku waited, and she started to straighten as she had the first time she summoned the thing, and at last, the weapon appeared firmly in her grasp. “It takes a little effort, but I’m sure all I need is a little practice,” she said.  
  
Mickey and Yen Sid were watching her. “It is…appropriate, I believe, that someone of your caliber can summon your Keyblade so soon,” Yen Sid began, “but I admit I did not expect you to need so little effort. It can take beginners some time to master even _summoning_ their weapons, and you need only moments to call yours.”  
  
Riku didn’t know if her stiffening posture was pride or something else. “I’ve trained my whole life in a number of disciplines. This needs little more than concentration,” she said, a little stiffly. “I confess I’ve had easier tasks, but this is no hardship.”  
  
Riku was beginning to understand that, though he knew almost nothing about her, in reality…  
  
The thing he knew best was that this woman was _astounding._ She was powerful and steadfast in her own right, and he could already tell she had been through hardship.  
  
He couldn’t help it, this time, when he reached for her, and she let him.  
  
Their fingers tangled and he pulled at her until she came in to his arms, and Riku closed his eyes, just holding her close for a long moment.  
  
It was so strange a feeling, _knowing_ her, yet not, and the powerful urge to just be _near_ her…  
  
He wondered if he could sleep tonight, with her in another room.  
  
He felt like he was going crazy.  
  
But he knew why he felt this way.  
  
Asami leaned in to him, letting out her breath, and ducked her head in to his neck, her nose pressed to his skin.  
  
Riku _knew._ “I’ll train her tomorrow,” he said, quietly, and he curled his arm around her. “Do you mind to take us back to Radiant Garden, Mickey?”  
  
“Sure,” Mickey chirped, and, to her immense surprise, Asami found herself swept up in Riku’s arms a moment later.  
  
The mouse flew them back, and told Riku he’d check in, but that Riku could take the time for himself and Asami.  
  
Riku gave the man a hug and a quiet thanks, and then, Asami tangled their fingers again, and led him in to the town proper.  
  
It had begun to flourish, at last, and there were neat rows of houses, the defense system still active.  
  
Asami’s home was well-kept, with flowers in the windows, but otherwise unremarkable outside.  
  
She unlocked the door and let him in, and Riku couldn’t help raking his eyes over _everything._  
  
She had one couch and a puffy recliner, and he heard a fountain bubbling in the far corner of her living space. Her tables were tidy—with a few books on the coffee table, and only a mug beside her recliner.  
  
But she had a shelf with a music player atop it, and between some of the music were little figurines.  
  
One was a little cat, and another a small, square placard he couldn’t read from the entry, and another was a tiny, porcelain dancer.  
  
There were a myriad of swords on her walls—and he saw the open space for her katana.  
  
She had throwing weapons mounted, too, but those were relegated to a small space where the room broke off in to the kitchen.  
  
It smelled clean, and like _her,_ too, somehow.  
  
She brushed past him and replaced her katana in the empty space. “Are you hungry?”  
  
Riku finally brought his attention back to her when she spoke, and he felt himself blushing, just a little. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t stare, it’s just…”  
  
“I’ll likely do the same if and when I get to see your home,” she said, gently.  
  
Riku settled a little. “I am, but I can help you cook.”  
  
She smiled. “I’d like that. Thank you.”  
  
Riku followed her to her kitchen—a small space, comparatively, and she asked what he wanted—but, really, Riku would eat almost anything, considering his travels.  
  
She admitted she wanted comfort food, considering how…strange the day had been.  
  
So they had homemade bread and some warm stew, and dinner was quiet—both realizing, now, how exhausting the day had been, and when the food was gone, she offered Riku the bathroom first, if he wanted it.  
  
He took her up on the offer, just to have a few minutes of hot water on his shoulders, to wash off some of the remnants of the Dark World and his tension.  
  
He didn’t take long—honestly, it felt _wrong,_ being away from her—and he caught her staring.  
  
Not that he could say he wouldn’t do the same to her, if he saw her right out of the shower.  
  
She took longer than he did—no surprise, considering her hair—and Riku lost his breath when she got out.  
  
Though she had dried off and was dressed, she smelled _so good,_ and her hair was all the way down, for the first time.  
  
She had changed in to more comfortable clothes for sleep—a pair of soft shorts and a t-shirt that looked a little too big for her, but it _suited_ her, because it looked comfortable. It looked like _home._  
  
He moved before he realized it and gathered her close, one arm curling around the base of her spine, the other tangling in her hair, feeling how she’d toweled and combed it once she was out.  
  
He tipped her head back so he could find her eyes, and she gave him a smile that made him _melt,_ and Riku dipped his head, and he realized that the strange static had come back in his head, because…  
  
Just the touch of her lips emptied everything but _her_ out of his mind and heart.  
  
They kissed until they were both breathless and gasping softly in to each other, stealing tiny, soft kisses, not willing to part, yet.  
  
She buried her face in his shoulder after several moments, taking a couple of deep breaths, and then she let out a long sigh. “I’m not implying anything—but are you sure you want to sleep alone?”  
  
Even if she hadn’t told him otherwise, he knew from her tone that she wasn’t asking anything more—she was just asking if he wanted to stay with her.  
  
Riku took a breath. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, quietly, in to her hair. “Just this first night, at least, I think…I think it would be best.”  
  
She let out another long sigh, and closed her eyes, and then nodded. “Okay.” She sighed, and pulled away, a little, but took his hand, lacing their fingers. “Come on. We’re both tired.”  
  
He followed her, and she had a small room with a little bed—it looked like it probably wasn’t built to be a bedroom, but it had become one, with a little table beside the bed, and a light upon it. There were a few books on a small shelf, but this room had paintings—most of nature, but there was one painting of a ballerina. She had only one katana mounted in this room.  
  
“I’m next door,” she said, softly, and she gestured. “Come get me if you need me, okay?”  
  
Riku nodded, and he pulled her back to him, kissing her softly, first her lips, then her forehead, and then the top of her head, lingering for a long moment. “Thank you.”  
  
She hummed at him softly, and this sigh was soft and sweet, and yet _wistful._ “Goodnight, Riku.”  
  
He managed to pull away from her, reluctantly, like he had to slowly pull one piece of himself away at a time. “Goodnight, Asami.”  
  
He settled on the little bed (which, admittedly, was probably a little short for him), and he put his boots aside, having brought them with him after his shower, and he folded his jacket on the table—he was down to his white t-shirt and his usual pants, to sleep a little easier.  
  
She waited until he had finished that, and he looked back at her, and she smiled. “See you in the morning.”  
  
She flipped the light off at his gesture, and he heard her footsteps move away.  
  
Every single one echoed like thunder in his head, and his heart _ached._  
  
He laid himself out on the bed, but his chest hurt, even more than he’d imagined it _could,_ and his head felt like it was spinning, like there was static hissing in his ears.  
  
He felt _nauseated._  
  
But he made himself go to sleep, because, far worse than any of _that,_ was the idea that he might wake up from some nightmare having _struck_ Asami in his fight response.  
  
He couldn’t bear the thought of waking up, Keyblade in hand, to see her thrown across the room, because _he couldn’t control himself._  
  
But he didn’t _sleep well._  
  
Asami _didn’t_ sleep—not truly.  
  
She stayed on her bed, curled on her side, turning over too many times because _nothing_ was comfortable, and then made herself stay still, because she was just riling herself up more.  
  
She was so tired, she almost felt like she couldn’t sleep.  
  
But it was also the pain, and nausea, and the inability to _think_ or _breathe_ without him that made it almost impossible to just _let go_ to sleep.  
  
She bobbed on the surface, sleeping a few minutes at a time, trying to wrestle herself down.  
  
Riku woke from a different nightmare than normal.  
  
A nightmare that made him fall out of the bed, unable to summon Braveheart, hands shaking as though he’d lost control of his body—  
  
And he _had,_ but not in the way he feared.  
  
He stumbled to his feet and fell and got back up, tripping over the rug he didn’t remember, and again in the door frame, and he caught himself on Asami’s door.  
  
Shut.  
  
His heart was beating _so hard_ he couldn’t hear himself breathing.  
  
It took every ounce of strength in his body to open her door, as silently as possible, and he found her sitting up, her hand at her bedside light, and she looked—  
  
Riku tripped again before he made it to her bed and _picked her up, blankets and all._  
  
“Riku?”  
  
Her voice was hoarse and deeper, and she sounded almost strangled.  
  
But Riku couldn’t let her go.  
  
“Riku, baby, I’m okay,” she said, when her sleep-deprived, exhausted, _confused_ brain caught up. “I’m here. It’s okay. _You’re_ okay,” she whispered, and she reached for him, stroking his hair, once she managed to get an arm out of the blankets she was wrapped in. “Sweetheart, sit down. You’re shaking,” she whispered, because she really _couldn’t_ get free, the way he’d picked her up—she was literally wrapped in her bedcovers, her feet tangled up in it all, barely able to move in his grasp, he’d grabbed her _so tightly._  
  
“I’m sorry,” he gasped, but he hadn’t moved, yet. “I’m sorry, I—”  
  
She felt his arms waver, “Baby, it’s okay. Just sit down on my bed, okay? You don’t have to put me down,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”  
  
Riku only managed to obey her after he realized that he was on the verge of passing out.  
  
He almost _fell_ on her bed, but he didn’t let her go, not once, and he held her clutched against his chest, even after he’d managed to sit.  
  
Asami wrestled her other arm out of the blankets, and she reached for him, smoothing his hair away from his face, and she made him look at her. “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. Take a deep breath, please,” she whispered, urgently. “You’re panicking, and that’s okay, we’ll talk you down—but I need you to breathe. Look at me, remember I’m _right here,_ and just breathe, okay?”  
  
Riku was still shaking, but he slowly obeyed her, gasping a few times, but he began to relax, very slowly, and his grip loosened.  
  
She stroked her fingers through his hair, gentle as she could, but she began to gently wipe the corner of his eyes, when his grip began to slacken. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” she soothed, and she leaned in, kissing his lips softly, just once. “You’re alright.”  
  
Riku let go of her with one arm, reaching up, touching her face, and _that_ was when things seemed to break apart.  
  
Tears started streaming down his face, and her name fell from his lips, “A-sa-mi?”  
  
It wasn’t quite hiccupped, but it _was_ broken, _gasped_ , and she smiled at him, wiping away the tears. “I’m here, Riku. It’s okay,” she soothed. “Everything’s alright.”  
  
The tears dissipated after he watched her for a few moments, and he pulled her to him, kissing her, even though he was breathless before his lips even found hers. “I thought— I felt—” He gasped in her mouth, his arm tightening on her, and he waited, gasping again. “I thought they took you.”  
  
“Riku, it’s okay,” she said again, and she took his hand, squeezing it, _hard._ Though he was stronger than her, it put enough pressure on his joints that it _jolted_ his senses. “I’m right here, baby. I’m here,” she said, and she let go just a little, tangling their fingers. “You were dreaming. You feel me, right?”  
  
“I—” He cut himself off, and he realized, suddenly, that part of the problem was that he _couldn’t_ feel her—not completely. He picked her up again, pulling at the covers, and then, when she’d helped him get rid of them, and had, _very willingly,_ climbed on his lap, straddling him, the static and nausea and _panic_ began to vanish a great deal _easier._  
  
He hadn’t been able to feel her, _all_ of her, through the blankets, and in his addled state, he couldn’t _grasp_ the knowledge that she was _here,_ and she was _safe,_ and, most importantly, **_in his arms._**  
  
He buried his face in her shoulder, and he could smell her shampoo now that her hair was down. Her skin was _so warm,_ and he realized she wasn’t wearing anything beneath the oversized shirt, but somehow, that _helped,_ because it made her feel… _human._  
  
“Asami,” he breathed, and he just held her, murmuring her name now and again, and she hummed at him softly when he did, holding on to him in return, and she felt him _finally_ calming down. His shaking had slowed, and his breathing had finally calmed, and his heartbeat wasn’t so fast that she feared for his life, and she suddenly realized how _tired_ she was, and how much she needed his touch.  
  
But he needed her _more,_ right now.  
  
Riku burrowed in her shoulder for a long time, before he finally pulled away, watching her. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”  
  
“Well, I’m not sure I’ve been asleep yet, so unless I’m reading your mind, I doubt it,” she said, softly, and then she smiled. “Want me to pinch you?”  
  
Riku stiffened a little. “You haven’t slept yet?”  
  
“Maybe, but not well,” she said, honestly. “Not well enough to call it _sleep,_ because I’m not sure I’ve been asleep for more than a few minutes at a time,” she told him. She smiled a little bit. “I don’t seem to be able to function if you’re not in the same room,” she said, and she was tilting her head at him. “I don’t feel right, without you with me.”  
  
Riku laughed, but it wasn’t really that he thought it was funny—it was somewhere between relief and frustration. He took a deep breath, and let it out—it shook. “Maybe I should stay with you,” he admitted, when he was too tired to fight the urge.  
  
The adrenaline and fear had drained out, and he was…  
  
_Exhausted._  
  
More exhausted than he’d ever been, and he had _a lot_ to compare it to, in truth.  
  
“Would you, please?” Her voice was low, and soft, and something in it sounded… _small._ Vulnerable. “You don’t have to sleep in the bed, if you don’t want, I just…I’ll bring the other mattress in, I can sleep on it, you’re taller than me—”  
  
“I’ll stay,” he said, when he realized there was something _else_ there. A drop of fear. “But don’t let me hurt you.”  
  
She pulled back, meeting his eyes, and he saw that hers were wet with tears, now. “I won’t, honey. You wouldn’t—but I can assure you, I wouldn’t let you if you tried.”  
  
Riku believed her.  
  
He leaned in and softly kissed the corners of her eyes, and he turned, inching her off. “I’ll take care of the blankets,” he said.  
  
She was too tired to argue, so she climbed back on the bed, finding her pillow comfortably cold, now, and she curled up, watching him.  
  
He didn’t bother to smooth or tuck the sheets, but he replaced them neatly enough, and then he climbed on the bed with her—it was a double, thankfully—and he wrapped one arm around her middle, pulling her back in to him, and she went willingly.  
  
When she was pressed against his chest, they both let out a sigh, and she snuggled back against him, and Riku swallowed a little gasp when she got just a little too close, but then he settled.  
  
He reached over her for the light, and as soon as his arm was back around her, Riku _felt_ her fall asleep.  
  
She _crumbled_ and went limp and he heard his name from her lips, barely more than a breath, but she was suddenly _soft_ and pliant and…  
  
Riku curled his arm around her belly, barely edging his fingers under her side, just to _feel_ her.  
  
She still smelled so good, like something floral, and Riku buried his nose in her hair, closing his eyes, just to breathe her in.  
  
Her body swelled in to his arm with every breath, and as he finally felt _peace_ drift over him, he began to count her breaths in his head.  
  
He counted ninety-nine before sleep finally took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure it's not just me that thinks Riku probably has horrible nightmares—he was possessed and then trapped in the Dark Realm, too, and he probably has a wealth of guilt on his back and...well, yeah.
> 
> Anyway, I know the pacing seems sort of off, but I think they're both fumbling in the story—connecting innately, due to their bond, but also knowing, logically, that it's strange, to feel that way.
> 
> It feels like a push-and-pull situation as I'm writing it, and I'm mostly letting it write itself out, here—sort of having them fall in to the brink and then pull back at the last moment, a bit. Hopefully that makes sense.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it! Let me know, and do tell if there's anything I can work on. I edit when I post it, but I'm my own beta, so I do miss things.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own _Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy,_ or **ANY** _Disney_ property. I make no profit off this. I'm just writing for fun.
> 
> Hi guys! I know it's been a bit, but around work, I have life—and also zero attention span, because I've been going between knitting, Beat Saber, and writing, so...I need better focus.
> 
> But it's also a matter of me preferring to have a good bit written out before I post a chapter (in the event that I need to edit something from a previous chapter, or that I learn something new, or have a revelation, or...etc.), and I got stuck, a bit.
> 
> I know the ReMind chapter was announced (and put out for preorder, which I need to do, because...well. I may not have played all the games, but I still want to get as much of it as I can. [Also if I ever stop playing Beat Saber, I can continue to play the games with PS4 collection thing, and get some more inside info, but for now...I have summary videos.]) It's likely that will be released before I finish this story, but I'm not sure it will make much difference, as this is a rewrite of sorts.
> 
> Anyway, off you go! I hope you enjoy!

Riku woke up in a way he hadn’t in _years_ —long after sunrise, the muted light, even after filtering through her curtains, much too bright for it to be _morning,_ still. He felt groggy and confused, and his head felt strangely heavy. It took him a moment to register Asami’s lithe, warm body beneath his arm, and then a few more moments before his brain caught up to the fact that she was, in fact, still _asleep._  
  
He stayed there, baffled, because…  
  
He hadn’t had a _single_ nightmare.  
  
This was the first time he’d woken up tonight—well, today. He hadn’t woken up since he had thought…  
  
Well.  
  
He hadn’t had a single night like that since he’d first been possessed—he’d had at least one nightmare every time he’d fallen asleep since that time. They’d slowed down, recently, but he still _always_ had some horrible dream, which he could only hope would disappear when all of this was _over._  
  
But not this time. Not after he’d pulled her close and snuggled in to her, holding on to her, clinging to the thought of her safe, and sound, in his arms.  
  
He felt… _sane_ with her.  
  
And insane.  
  
He should have been focused on taking down Xehanort, and finding Aqua, and…  
  
Everything else.  
  
But when she was in his arms, Riku felt like he could _breathe_ and _slow down,_ his head wasn’t running a million miles an hour, thinking of everything he had to do, all the things that could go wrong, all the things he’d done, all the ways he’d _fucked up_ and gotten them deeper in this mess, and how to get them _out of this mess._  
  
He was just thinking of _Asami._  
  
How warm and soft she was, curled up, safe and _sleeping soundly._ How good her hair smelled, and how well she fit in to him.  
  
They’d adjusted in the night, until her hips were fitted back against his (and, really, if he wasn’t so _overwhelmed_ by the lack of nightmares, that might have had him thinking _something else,_ entirely) and her hand had lifted, grabbing his arm where he held her, though her hold was very loose. One of her legs had nudged between his and she’d curled her foot around his—and her foot _had_ to be numb, considering—but she was limp and pliant against him, fitting to him so perfectly that, even though he’d known it before, it just further cemented how _perfectly_ they fit together.  
  
And it wasn’t just that she fit in to him physically, settling just right against his body like she was _meant_ to be in his arms, it was the way he felt around her, the absolute _certainty_ that he could trust her. It was the feeling like…  
  
Like he _belonged._  
  
Riku hadn’t ever truly felt that.  
  
He’d always felt out of place in some way, with his head off in the clouds, dreaming about getting away from home.  
  
Dreaming about doing something more.  
  
And then, the people who’d cared about him…  
  
He just pushed them away.  
  
And then he _still didn’t learn his lesson,_ he _tried_ to go it alone, because…  
  
Maybe, because he felt like he didn’t _deserve_ to be with anybody else.  
  
Like he was broken and corrupted and…  
  
He’d been stripped of _everything,_ and had built himself back up, slowly, so slowly. It had been slow for him to even let _Mickey,_ and then _Sora_ help him, and he had yet to really let Kairi in again. Maybe he was afraid that he’d just make the same mistakes over again.  
  
It was only recently that he’d learned to have some confidence in himself again, not just in his ability to fight the Heartless, but to learn to trust that he could make the right choices at the right times.  
  
He hadn’t even felt like he belonged to _himself._  
  
But with Asami, there was just an innate, natural feeling that…  
  
With her, he belonged.  
  
He fit with her.  
  
It was frightening, and astounding, but he could feel how their hearts were connected, how his jagged edges somehow smoothed in to hers. He knew that, when he finally found the courage to face up to everything, when he finally poured his heart out…  
  
Asami would _accept_ him.  
  
All of him.  
  
For the first time, he felt… _at home._  
  
He barely knew her, and yet…  
  
Asami was _home,_ a feeling so deeply entrenched that even his worst fears and self-doubt couldn’t find a hold to erase it.  
  
Riku knew it, better than anything else.  
  
He tightened his arm on her, not intending to wake her, but just to squeeze her, to let out the feelings, and he breathed in her scent, just _memorizing_ this feeling.  
  
She let out a quiet moan and her hand tightened on his wrist, and she inhaled sharply. “Riku?”  
  
He groaned internally, but kissed the back of her head gently. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “you can go back to sleep, if you want,” he offered.  
  
She groaned, letting go of him, and her hand bumped him when she reached for her face. She rubbed her eyes, grunting a little, clearly not fully awake. “No, hon, it’s okay,” she breathed, and her voice was husky. She shifted a little, groaning. “What time is it?”  
  
Riku still felt guilty, and her shifting did a number on him, but he let go of her. She pulled her leg from between his, rolling on her belly, and she moaned quietly in to the pillow. “I don’t know,” he said, trying not to let himself get too invested in the noises she _clearly_ wasn’t making to rile him up.  
  
“Fuck,” she murmured, and he barely understood her. “I haven’t woken up like that in…”  
  
But she didn’t continue, and she turned her head toward him on the pillow. She was bleary-eyed and her face was a little puffy from sleep, but Riku thought her as beautiful as ever. She smiled at him. “Sleep okay, sweetheart?”  
  
Riku’s heart did so many backflips that he felt almost dizzy, and he couldn’t help leaning in, and she let him, kissing him softly, stealing another kiss when he pulled away, and she looked so _happy_ that Riku just wanted to keep her like this _forever._  
  
This bed was _safe._ _She_ was _safe._ “I’ve never slept better,” he said, without even thinking about it, because…  
  
It was true.  
  
Asami smiled brightly, and she turned over to face him, scooting closer, and she kissed him softly, running her fingers through his hair, holding him gently. “No nightmares?” She paused, and she ran her thumb along his cheekbone, drawing a circle on his temple. “I didn’t snore, right?”  
  
Riku appreciated that she hadn’t forced the question, and yet…  
  
“No nightmares,” he said, quietly, and he caught her hand, pulling it to his lips. He kissed her thumb softly. “Not one.”  
  
She grinned, and she kissed him again, lingering against his lips, before she pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. “I’m so glad,” she breathed.  
  
Riku held her like that for a long time, breathing in the peace of this moment, with her, and only her.  
  
“Thank you,” he whispered.  
  
Asami kissed him again, and then again, and she was smiling the whole time. “Well, it’s definitely after noon,” she said, softly, “but I think we could both use breakfast. What do you say?”  
  
Riku let himself smile. “That sounds perfect.”  
  
He followed her to the kitchen (leaving his boots and jacket, because…well, he _needed_ this time, he needed to leave things like this, just for a little while) and watched her get breakfast started, offering to help, and they worked together well. They seemed to sense each other well—not bumping in to each other, despite the size of her kitchen, and he had a sense of where things were in her home, even if he couldn’t pinpoint it.  
  
They ate breakfast together, and when they were done, Asami took the dishes to the sink. “I’m going to get dressed. I’ll come back for this, so don’t worry about it,” she said.  
  
But Riku wasn’t very good at standing still, especially when he didn’t have her in his arms, so he collected his boots and jacket, and then came back to the dishes.  
  
It felt strange, doing household tasks, but he managed to finish the dishes and set them aside before she returned to his side.  
  
She had on the vestments they’d gotten her yesterday, but she had woven her hair in a tight braid, only a few strands too short to reach curling down around her temples—he could see she had fastened her hair to itself, so it _couldn’t_ get in the way.  
  
Riku was learning all too quickly that he wanted to have her near, that he wanted her in his arms, so intensely—it ached in him, making his chest hurt.  
  
Asami moved in to him, though, and she stood on her toes, kissing him softly. “I know we don’t have time to dawdle,” she said, as quietly as she could. “I suppose we need to work on training me.”  
  
Riku let out a quiet sigh, but he took her hand. “Yes. Are you ready?”  
  
“Well, as ready as I’ll ever be, I imagine,” she said, but she was smiling. “Come on. We can head to the training grounds. Leon likes to spend time there, but he won’t make too much fuss, I think.”  
  
Riku paused. “I’ve met him a time or two,” he said. “Don’t think he’s my biggest fan.”  
  
Asami laughed, “Don’t assume. He’s just not very…open. Sweet guy, but he’s not very good at communication. Sort of have to take it as it comes.” She grinned at him, but squeezed his hand. “Besides, we’re going together. If he’s there, he can deal,” she offered, but she tugged at his arm, and led him toward the door.  
  
She stopped and looked at one of her katanas, already reaching for it, but she stopped.  
  
Riku knew. “Carry it, until you’re comfortable summoning your Keyblade,” he offered. “It’s alright.”  
  
She took the thing from the wall and put it in its usual place, and her shoulders relaxed slightly when she had it comfortably held on her hip.  
  
Riku led her out of the house and she locked it behind them, and she led the way to the training grounds.  
  
It was a winding path that went out further than the castle itself—the training grounds were built in the open space they had left over after much reconstruction had been done due to the necessity of research.  
  
There were some dummies, and targets, but it had a lot of open space, as well—probably for sparring, by Riku’s guess.  
  
Leon, as Asami had guessed, was there. He was facing off against one of the training dummies, looking bored, despite the effort he was definitely putting in.  
  
He glanced at them as they passed, and waited. He spoke after a moment or two. “Haven’t seen you for a bit, Asami,” he said, and there was a note of worry. His eyes only ventured once toward Riku.  
  
“Had a lot of practice on the Heartless,” she said, and she was smiling. “I’ve been feeling better. Feel like things are coming along here—the restoration is going well, and the people are feeling safer.”  
  
Riku could tell she wasn’t just talking about the Heartless, but he didn’t know how. Leon, clearly, knew what she was saying underneath it, because his eyes went back to Riku, and then to Asami. She nodded. “Riku, right?”  
  
Asami looked surprised, but Riku nodded, only once. “I understand you being wary. This isn’t…I’m not what you remember,” he said, and the words were gentle, yet firm. “I gave in, once. I won’t again.”  
  
Leon watched him, seeming very wary, before he finally lowered his weapon. “You tried to kill your best friend. You’ll forgive me if I don’t quite trust you.”  
  
“I don’t expect you to,” Riku said, honestly. “But I’ve come a long way. I’m not a jealous, thrill-seeking kid, now.” He paused, and he looked at Asami, and then back at Leon. “But you can hold me accountable. I don’t ask for your trust, since I’ve got no right to it, but all I want is to protect Asami,” he said. “She can use a Keyblade. I’m going to teach her as much as I can.”  
  
Asami sensed it, before he said even a word, and her hand found his, twining their fingers, squeezing. “I have to leave, soon. I’m sure you’ve seen the way the Heartless have grown stronger—how the _darkness_ is stronger,” he said. “And I just want to make sure she can defend herself with her Keyblade.”  
  
Leon watched him, and then turned to Asami. “You’re chosen by the Keyblade?” He sounded like he wasn’t surprised, but perhaps just a little disbelieving.  
  
She grinned. “You, of all people, should know I’m a tough nut to crack. I’ll keep fighting to my last breath, even if it takes forever.” She paused, and Riku felt a sharp pain in his ribs, swift, but then, it was gone. “I just found out. It’s…a little weird. I’m not sure how to explain,” she said, and Riku heard the tone— _don’t ask._  
  
Leon gave a moment or two of thought. “You’re stronger than any of us,” he said, very quietly. “If anybody’s earned a Keyblade, it’s you.” He almost seemed to smile, and then glanced to her katana. “Sentimental?”  
  
“It’s hard to summon it,” she said. “Have to concentrate. I don’t always have the time.” She grinned, suddenly, “I’m not good at _everything_ instantly. I work toward things.”  
  
He did, in fact, smile this time. “Well, I’ll put you on the spot—show me!”  
  
Riku didn’t catch up, at first, but then, Asami was away from him, flitting behind a dummy, and a ball of fire flew _right where_ Asami had been standing.  
  
Riku’s Keyblade was in his hand before he knew it.  
  
“You’re predictable, _Squall!_ ” Asami’s voice was full of a laughter he hadn’t heard before, and it stopped Riku cold—a good thing, considering that he’d been about to throw Leon halfway across the castle.  
  
Leon had his sword readied again, and Riku’s eyes raked the training grounds, looking for her.  
  
He could _sense_ her before he _saw_ her—the edge of a white square on her jacket, the edge of her pants a color that contrasted the castle.  
  
Leon _didn’t._  
  
Riku saw her focusing, concentrating on summoning her weapon, and he trained his eyes back on Leon, just in case the man was trying to read _him_ to find Asami.  
  
He felt the surge when she caught her Keyblade, and then Asami left her hiding place, dashing toward Leon.  
  
He dodged out of the way and turned to face her, each now holding their weapons at the ready.  
  
Leon’s eyes raked over the Keyblade, and they stopped at the tip. He looked at her eyes beyond the weapon. “You good?”  
  
“I always take my weaknesses and turn them in to strengths,” she said, quietly. Riku wondered at the pause, at the fact that _Leon_ seemed to know what _Riku_ didn’t.  
  
He felt… _jealous._  
  
“Riku is helping,” she said, softly. “It’s…hard. But I’ve faced it many times. I can only hope that it hurts as much as I think.”  
  
Leon took his eyes off her to look at Riku again, this time very differently. His eyes went back to Asami. “If he even _dreams_ the thought of hurting you, I hope you stab him with it,” Leon said.  
  
Asami looked at her weapon, and then at Riku, for a long moment.  
  
Riku felt like she’d _kissed_ him.  
  
“He wouldn’t,” she said, softly, but her voice was sure. “Believe me when I tell you, he would give _anything_ to protect me,” she said.  
  
Leon looked at Riku once more, and then at Asami. “Fine,” he said, and his shoulders relaxed. “First to get knocked down three times loses,” he said.  
  
Asami grinned. “Kiss my ass, Leon!”  
  
Riku watched them spar—Leon was definitely careful with how he hit her, and he threw her down twice before she got him once. He threw intermittent fireballs, and Asami used ice—but not against his magic.  
  
Twice she struck a fireball back at him, and he only _just_ managed to dodge.  
  
The third time was the first time she knocked him down.  
  
But Leon shook it off and got to his feet and scanned for her again, but she pelted him with an ice spell and then she was coming at him with the Keyblade, and Leon blocked—  
  
And then tripped over the dummy he’d been near.  
  
Asami laughed. “That still counts, bud!”  
  
Leon grumbled at her. “I would argue,” he said, and this time, he had his weapon more ready, after glancing at his surroundings, “but I’d lose that argument before I’d lose _this_ fight.”  
  
“Damn right,” Asami said.  
  
Riku, though feeling jealous and just a little _possessive,_ was suddenly appreciative that they’d come when Leon was here.  
  
He could see her fight, one-on-one, against something much more intelligent than a Heartless.  
  
He reminded himself that his jealousy and urge to hold her, to _keep her away from Leon,_ was likely just the power of their bond—and that he had nothing to worry about.  
  
He watched them flit across the space, dodging dummies and each other, and Leon was definitely not as fast or as graceful as Asami, but Leon was _smart._ He was watching her, and he remembered Asami saying that Leon had been the one training her. He had the advantage.  
  
Riku also knew Leon hit _a lot harder_ than Asami.  
  
But she was just as smart—using obstacles and spells to her advantage, knowing her strengths, using the very environment to her advantage.  
  
Riku wasn’t sure he needed to _truly_ teach her anything—she just needed _practice._ She had her own style and technique, and despite her newness with the blade, she wielded it well. She seemed to be testing its weight and strength, and hadn’t quite hit Leon with it, yet—she’d struck _toward_ him, but he’d blocked every time, thus far. She had adjusted her grip on it a few times, and had seemed to be testing the strength of her magic with it, too—her first spell had been more powerful than she’d intended, Riku could tell.  
  
Riku saw something new, now, though—she grabbed Leon by the arm and climbed on his back, and Leon stuttered in his footsteps, but didn’t drop. “You know I can throw you off,” he said, and Riku heard the tone—warning.  
  
“Nope.” Asami wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled her arm back against his throat and Leon coughed, and then _jumped._  
  
Asami leapt off before he could slam her on the ground.  
  
Leon watched her. “Anyone else would’ve thrown you before you grabbed them like that,” he said, and this tone wasn’t teasing at all—it was severe. “You can climb someone, but if they’ve got their wits, they can get you off faster than you can grab.”  
  
Asami pulled one of the knives from around her wrist. “Not if I stick a knife in them on the way,” she said. “I just don’t _actually_ want to hurt you.”  
  
“Don’t hesitate,” Leon said. “Ever.”  
  
“I got it, Leon,” she returned, evenly. “I wanted to see if I could actually get the right tension from that angle.”  
  
“You can, but you’ve got better methods.”  
  
Asami nodded. “Got it.”  
  
Leon threw himself at her, but Asami was _still_ faster—she flitted out of the way and threw another ice spell, and used it to skate toward him, and Leon couldn’t block, but he didn’t hit the ground—he rolled and turned back toward her, grinning, “Like that!”  
  
“You could have at least stayed down,” she said, grinning, clearly not meaning it.  
  
They dashed across the space again, and Leon threw another fireball, blocking her hits, and Riku knew she couldn’t _actually_ take him down, now.  
  
But she threw several hard hits, even if Leon blocked them, and at last, he locked his Gunblade between two of the iron wires on her Keyblade.  
  
She was panting, a little, but Leon was, too.  
  
He pushed forward and threw her, and she skidded an inch or two, and then groaned. “At least I got you twice this time.”  
  
Riku ran to help her up, but she held her hand up for a second. “Bastard wears me out,” she said, and she grinned at him, but shook her head. “Let me sit a sec.”  
  
Leon approached and knelt, looking her over. “You didn’t take as many hits, either,” he said. “You’re getting better.” But he was watching her. “Did I hurt you?”  
  
“I know you hit fuckin’ harder than that, Leon,” she said, honestly. “I’m alright. You go easy on me every time.”  
  
Leon stood up at that. “You and I both know I couldn’t hit you with all my strength,” he said, very quietly.  
  
This time, Asami was quiet, and she climbed to her feet with a groan. “I know,” she said, just as quietly. “Thank you.”  
  
Riku wanted to ask—he knew, he could _feel_ it in his gut, it was something _he_ needed to know.  
  
But when he looked at Asami, and she met his eyes, he knew she’d tell him.  
  
Leon turned toward the two of them, looking at Riku intently, and then at Asami. “He lays a hand on you, I’ll break it,” he said, softly. “Of course, I expect I’d only get to him _after_ you did.”  
  
Asami shook her head, and she reached for Riku, and he almost _fell_ in to her, curling his arm around her shoulder, and she fitted herself against him, one of her arms dipping under his jacket, holding him, despite the fact that he could now tell that she had _genuinely_ put in the effort for that session. Her arm was shaking, just a little. “He wouldn’t,” she said, just as she had the first time Leon offered his doubt. “He’s…” She hesitated, and Riku felt her calming down, likely just from the fact that they were touching again. “It’s hard to explain, like I said. It’s…we’re meant for each other,” she said, softly. “We balance each other. Something about him being a Keyblade Master—I don’t get it,” she admitted, “but I have a lot to learn. He’s gentle.” She paused for a moment, and she looked up at Riku, and then turned to Leon. “As gentle as you, when I woke up that night.” Riku could _tell_ she was looking _right_ at Leon’s eyes, and there was something in those words. “I feel it. In his heart,” she said, and she laid her hand on his chest. “I know. If you can’t trust him yet, trust me. Riku is _good._ He wants to protect me—even from himself.”  
  
Leon gave that a long moment of thought, watching Riku intently, as though the man might lash out at any moment.  
  
Instead, Riku curled his arm tighter around Asami, pulling her in to him tightly, and he dipped his head, pressing his nose in to her hair, his other arm curling around her, too.  
  
She turned in to him and buried her head in his chest, and Riku rested his chin on top of her head, letting out a heavy sigh. “I’d give anything to keep her safe,” Riku said, after a very long moment. “I don’t understand it all, either, but I know it in my heart—I’d give anything for her.”  
  
Leon waited, and then finally nodded. “Okay,” he said. He put away his weapon, and then shifted his weight to one leg. “Don’t overdo it today, Asami. You didn’t throw that fight.”  
  
She grinned at him, “Nor did you let me off,” she said, and she turned away from Riku for a moment to truly look at Leon. “Thanks, Leon. I’ll take care of myself,” she assured. “I know better.”  
  
“You know better, but that doesn’t mean you _do_ better,” he said, and Riku would swear he was teasing Asami.  
  
Asami’s grin grew even bigger, “Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t give my all, you know!” She nodded, “Really, though. Thank you.”  
  
Leon grunted at her, and turned away.  
  
His footsteps disappeared before long, and Riku spoke after he knew Leon was gone. “Did you two…date?”  
  
Asami heard the little notes in the question—curiosity and wonder, and maybe a little confusion, but there was a definite pinch of jealousy there, too.  
  
She waited for a moment. “No.” She took a little breath, and turned her head up to meet his eyes. “Leon is…good. He’s a good guy, just…in general. But he and I were never close when it would have mattered,” she said, and the words were soft. “My life might have gone very differently, if we were. Although, really, the road not taken makes no promises,” she added. “In truth, I don’t think he and I would have connected, if not for…circumstances. I was a different person, before—in another life,” she said, and Riku knew there was something in those words. “But he _is_ dear to me. He’s…a big brother, of sorts. Or uncle. I could never date him—not even if I hadn’t met you,” she admitted, and her eyes had dropped down, staring at his collar bones. “Things…happened. Part of the story I haven’t told you, yet.”  
  
Riku waited for a moment, rolling her words through his head, yet he was listening to her breathe. He relished the feeling of her settling in to him, her body fitting neatly against his, and her breathing was level and calm, now. He thought before he spoke. “I get the feeling he might have a different opinion,” Riku guessed.  
  
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t think so, knowing him.” She paused, and she smiled a little bit. “I actually think he and Aerith have a bit of a thing.” She waited for a moment, and then shook her head. “If the world was different, Leon and I might have had some kind of potential, maybe, but…I think all it is, really, is that he wants to protect me.” There was an honesty in her words, but he could tell she was thinking as she spoke, too. “He saw me in a place and time that I _needed_ protecting, even…even from myself,” she said, and the words dropped in volume. She was looking at his collar again. “I had…nothing. Or, I felt like it, at the time, but that’s never true,” she said, and Riku knew that feeling himself, and knew the feeling _now,_ from her _._ He could feel it coming through their bond, he could feel his chest tightening. It _hurt._ “I lost myself, and my sense of safety and sanity, and…” Her voice had broken, now, and she was shaking, a little. She took a sharp breath and held it, and then exhaled sharply, and waited until she could regulate her breathing.  
  
Riku waited through it all. “Whatever he might seem like, Leon’s a good egg. I think he’s just…kind, despite how he can come across. He’s a sweet guy—he cares about people. He wants people safe. He’s got a soft heart, and he cares about taking care of others,” she said, and her tone had leveled, her voice whole again. “He wants the best for people. I’m lucky that it includes me,” she added. “He might not seem it, but Leon’s protective of the people he cares about.” She stopped, and she lifted her eyes back to his, and she smiled a little. “He’s got his reasons for threatening you,” she added. “I’m thankful he trusts me to defend myself, but I also know that man would fight anyone, if I asked. He’s just that person.”  
  
Riku waited for a long moment, before he kissed her forehead, and then laid his hand against her chest. His own was aching, again, even though she was in his arms. “I’ll forgive him for seeming interested,” he said, softly. “Even if I’m a bit jealous.”  
  
She let out a laugh that made the tightness in his chest loosen like a rope had been cut, setting him free. “It’s alright, babe. You can be jealous,” she said, and she was grinning. “A bit of jealousy is nice. Not enough to cut me off from my friends, but…enough that I know you’re invested,” she added. “I like knowing you want my attention. Just don’t let it control you, and it’s all good.”  
  
Riku smiled, and yet Asami could sense something beneath the expression. “Believe me, Asami—I’ve learned not to let jealousy have _any_ of me.”  
  
She waited, wondering over the words, but she knew he would tell her, in time.  
  
So she leaned in, and Riku met her without even a pause—he kissed her, and he did let a tiny bit of the jealousy in.  
  
He kissed her intently, a little _possessively,_ and to his surprise, Asami let out a surprised, but warm hum. Her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled gently, and she nipped his lip, pulling it in to her mouth, and Riku let out a half-stuttered moan.  
  
He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in to him, biting her lip in return, and she _shivered_ in his arms, breaking away with a gasp. “We shouldn’t,” she breathed. “We get started and we won’t stop.”  
  
Riku felt that consuming ache again, and his chest was hurting, but there was something _else_ there.  
  
He could _feel_ her want.  
  
He hesitated, but Riku hadn’t ever been good at leaving things be—especially like this, when he could _tell_ she’d like it.  
  
Her eyes were wild, her pupils much too big, and he cupped her neck, feeling her heart racing in his palm, and she couldn’t resist him when he leaned back in, giving in with little more than his name, whispered in a soft whine before their lips met, and she chased after him when he pulled back again, but he dodged her and dipped his head.  
  
His lips found the corner of her jaw and she let out a gasp, and her fingers clenched in his shirt. He trailed his lips down her neck, feeling her heart fluttering too fast under her skin, and she had turned her head away by the time he got halfway down her neck.  
  
He kissed down to the place where her neck met her shoulder, and back up, and her _whole body_ had risen in temperature—he could feel it, she was so tightly pressed to him. He sucked her skin in to his mouth and she let out another of those whines, and Riku _knew_ he couldn’t leave this feeling alone.  
  
He bit at her skin, not hard, but he knew _where_ and _how_ to bite her and he got _much more_ of a reaction than he expected.  
  
She moaned, not at all muffled, and there was a sudden difference in the way she was pressing in to him, her hips shifting under his touch so much that he slid his hand beneath her shirt, and Asami _buckled._  
  
Riku caught her in his arms and he felt her panting against his chest, and he could see the tops of her ears flushed redder than Sora’s old pantsuit.  
  
“Why— How did—” He words were not all there—gasped, and she couldn’t quite seem to form the thought. “Did you know?”  
  
Riku hummed, though he hesitated to speak. “I could feel it,” he murmured, and he wasn’t nearly as affected as Asami. “I could feel _you._ What you _wanted._ ”  
  
She let out a moan in his chest. “Fuck.” She bit her lip, and Riku could tell she was trying to calm herself down. “You shouldn’t—you can’t do that,” she said, and it sounded like a protest, but there was also some level of disbelief and irritation in her tone, too. “You can’t just fucking bite me and act like—like you don’t know what that did to me,” she protested.  
  
Riku couldn’t help it—he was grinning, the expression lopsided and it was practically a shit-eating _smirk,_ even. “I think if I took you home we wouldn’t get anything done,” he said, and she _heard_ his expression before she _saw_ it.  
  
“Oh, I’d personally get a lot out of it,” she said, and her eyes had narrowed. They had darkened, too, and it reminded Riku of the deeper parts of the ocean, back home. “You _owe_ me for that,” she started, and she curled her hand around his belt, “and I’m not letting you get away with it, either.”  
  
Riku waited, and he dipped his head, but paused too close—and not close enough. His lips brushed hers when he spoke, “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, and she shivered, “but we’ll have to put it on hold.”  
  
She bit her lip when he pulled back, inhaling sharply. “I resent the fact that you have the amount of self-control that you do,” she muttered.  
  
Riku let himself laugh, and he pulled her closer, to kiss her forehead. “We need to do this now. I saw your skill, and I know you’re not a pushover—but I want you to be safe.”  
  
She groaned, but took a breath and nodded. She stepped away from him, and gestured. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit risque at the end there—they're both feeling a little more open toward each other with time, and I think they work well together.
> 
> That said, they're both still teetering a bit, but I think they're learning to trust each other, and equally finding it rather difficult _not_ to be together.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you lot enjoyed that! I'll hopefully be able to post again before Christmas. Work is about to go insane because of the new Star Wars crap, so I'll be lucky if I can keep my head.
> 
> That said, let me know what you think! Again, I have no beta, so do tell if you see any terrible errors or anything!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own _Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy,_ or **ANY** _Disney_ property. I make no profit off this. I'm just writing for fun.
> 
> So, just before Christmas, I figured I'd post a new chapter.
> 
> I work Christmas Day, but hopefully you guys have a merry one, and if you don't celebrate, I hope it's just a good day—and if it's another holiday, all the same for you, too, dears.
> 
> Anyway, off we go! I hope you enjoy.

Riku laughed—she sounded very unenthused, thinking of walking away from this—and he flashed her a grin. It was the sort of grin that would drop any woman at fifty paces. “I’ll tell you what—if we get done as much as I want today, we can do something _you_ want tonight,” he offered.  
  
Her eyes lit up, and she grinned in return. “Don’t challenge me, babe. It’s a dangerous game.”  
  
“I wouldn’t dream of going easy on you—you told me not to,” he said, and he summoned Braveheart. “Call your Keyblade.”  
  
She was surprised, and then…  
  
Appreciative.  
  
She focused, trying to call it, and closed her eyes and—  
  
“Don’t close your eyes,” he said, and he was _too close._  
  
She didn’t sense him approach, didn’t even _feel_ him move, but suddenly he had his Keyblade beneath her chin. “The people we’re fighting would _kill_ you for that moment of inattention,” he said.  
  
She gritted her teeth. “Any advice on summoning this thing easier?”  
  
Riku backed up again. “Practice.” He tilted his head at her, and raised his weapon. “Again. Summon it!”  
  
She tried, again and again, and he had to remind her twice not to close her eyes.  
  
At last, she summoned the thing just in time to keep him from getting in her space—she _barely_ managed to block him.  
  
“Okay.” He lowered his weapon, and watched her for a moment. “We’ll change tracks and come back to this. You have to be able to call it _instantly._ If someone is coming at you, you _must_ be able to call it to defend yourself.”  
  
She groaned softly, but allowed the weapon to disappear, and she rubbed her face. “Okay. I get that.” She waited, and let out a breath. “Can I have three minutes? I’ve got a headache. I just need to breathe.”  
  
Riku had sensed it before she even spoke, and he hesitated, before he went to her, gathering her in his arms, and he kissed her forehead. “Take whatever time you need,” he murmured.  
  
She almost crumpled in his arms, and she buried her head in his chest. “Forget breathing. _This_ helps.” She murmured the words, but Riku still felt her turn inward, and he heard her breathing slow and deep, evening herself out and soothing her nerves. He suspected she’d had to do that very often, because she began to relax in his arms, and her hands rose, resting against his chest. Her index finger drew small circles against his heart. “I think part of it is this… _bond_ thing. I’m still struggling not to want to touch you at all times,” she murmured.  
  
“I know,” he said, softly, and he kissed the top of her head. “I feel it, too.” He let out a little sigh, and then nodded. “Are you alright now?”  
  
“Yeah,” she murmured, and she gently freed herself from him, and let out a breath. She took a moment, and then focused, and brought her Keyblade back. “What’s next?”  
  
Riku felt his heart swell—she was astounding, determined and willing to learn.  
  
It made him feel…proud. Proud she was _his._  
  
Proud _he was hers._  
  
He wanted to pull her in to his arms for the thought, but resisted. “Now, we work on your magic. You weren’t sure with it against Leon,” he said.  
  
She smiled, perhaps a little sheepishly. “I don’t want to hurt him, and that first spell…if he hadn’t cast his fire a moment after, I think I would’ve,” she admitted. “I suppose the Keyblade helps my spellcasting?”  
  
He grinned. “It does,” he offered, and he gestured at it. “Your natural Keyblade—the one you summon for yourself—tends to enhance your natural strengths. You don’t seem to use magic often, so I imagine you’re not accustomed to the full potential of your power.”  
  
“Knowing the full potential would mean that I needed it, at some point,” she said, and she grinned at him. “I’ve been lucky enough to only need all of my strength once.” She paused, and Riku felt it—that was something sensitive. “So no, I don’t know my full strength with magic,” she admitted, to close the statement.  
  
Riku was intelligent enough not to ask. “Well, I think it’s time to see how far you can go.”  
  
Asami took a breath, but she followed his instructions, casting her spells at targets, and some were as powerful as his—her ice spells, in fact, could overtake his own.  
  
When that was over, he told her to take a break, and she gave in without pause or protest—she sat down on the ground and put her head between her knees, and Riku knew.  
  
He settled in, sitting with her, and he kissed the top of her head, and then ran his hand over her spine gently, up and down.  
  
She let out a soft sigh and began to relax only moments later.  
  
“I suppose you’re used to rigorous training,” she guessed, after a few minutes of just sitting with him, calming down, her breathing leveling and her body slowly recovering—Riku really _hadn’t_ taken it easy on her thus far, though he hadn’t hurt her.  
  
But he was definitely pushing her limits.  
  
“Most of mine was…in-field experience,” he said, after a moment of thought. “My best friend and I…we fought each other with these toy, wooden swords.” He hesitated for a long moment, and then let out a breath.  
  
Asami could _feel_ him thinking, _teetering._ Something…something _beneath_ all his other feelings, trying to peek through, trying to…  
  
“I did tell you I would…explain,” he said, quietly, and Asami instantly reached for his hand, because she _felt_ it, she felt a horrible _pain_ in her chest. She knew it was his. “I think I should do a little at a time.”  
  
“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, and she squeezed his hand, reaching for him, running her fingers through his hair.  
  
“I do,” he said, but the words were very soft. “I couldn’t…I know that I couldn’t truly be…whole, with you, if I cannot tell you the truth.” He paused, and his smile looked pained. “Leon mentioned me trying to kill my best friend,” he said, and he watched her. “He wasn’t lying. I haven’t always been this person,” he said, and he gestured at himself vaguely. “I wasn’t always…kind, or patient, or nice.” He stopped, and he shook his head. “What I told Leon…about not being some jealous, thrill-seeking kid, it’s true.” He paused, and this smile was a little more real. “Well, perhaps still a little jealous, but…not the way I was,” he amended.  
  
Asami watched him, feeling something tickling the edge of her brain, something from _him._ It was something between resentment and…and _fear._ Something regretful, and yet…there was an _emptiness,_ too. It didn’t feel _right._ She wanted to soothe him, but she could feel it—he didn’t want her touch right now. He was holding her hand, and that was enough.  
  
“When I was growing up—until about six or seven years ago, I guess,” he started, and he couldn’t quite look at her, “I lived on this…paradise. No enemies, no war, no…nothing.” He stopped and he almost smiled. “Of course, that was horribly boring, for a kid like me. I always wanted to go somewhere else—I started dreaming of it the minute Kairi showed up out of nowhere. She had to be from _somewhere else,_ so I wanted to go. I wanted off that island, I wanted _change._ I couldn’t have been more than six or seven, but…I was obsessed with it.” He stopped here, and it took him a moment.  
  
Asami thought he looked… _lonely._  
  
“Sora was a year younger than me, and Kairi was, too, but we all started working at it—probably in large part because I was so obsessed,” he admitted, and he shook his head. “When we were fourteen-fifteen, we started building a raft, gathering supplies…stupid, I’ll admit, but I _needed_ to see something else. I wanted to get away,” he said.  
  
Asami squeezed his hand.  
  
“The night before we planned to take off, there was this storm,” he continued, after a long pause. His voice had dropped—she thought it cracked a little, too. “I was _thrilled._ I _knew_ we could get off the island. I went out to _meet_ it—I was a dumbass, I’m not going to sugarcoat it,” he murmured. “Our world was _destroyed,_ and I did _nothing_ but…” He stopped, and Asami felt his chest _aching._ But she couldn’t reach for him—she _knew_ she couldn’t. “I _welcomed_ it. Darkness took me.”  
  
Her breath caught, and Asami suddenly _realized_ what that creeping feeling was—beneath everything, from the moment she’d met him, she’d felt him holding something back, _especially_ when he mentioned his nightmares.  
  
It was _darkness._  
  
Not that she was unfamiliar with it.  
  
“I woke up here,” he murmured, after a long moment. “No Sora, no Kairi, no…nothing. I was _alone._ But…someone found me.” He paused again, and he turned his eyes to her. “The witch, Maleficent.”  
  
Asami’s breath caught again, and this time, she _did_ reach for him, her hand tightening on his, the other one rising to grip his wrist.  
  
“Yeah. If I’d have been smart, I would’ve known better, but…” Riku turned away again, staring at the ground. “I was dumb. I wasn’t afraid of her, or of _anything._ I wasn’t afraid of the Heartless, or the Darkness, or _anything._ I was just _thrilled,_ getting away from Destiny Islands,” he said, and Asami could feel him pulling away from her, back to his memories. “But then, I got to thinking. Where were Sora and Kairi? Maleficent promised to help me find them,” he said, and his free hand clenched in a fist. “Of course, she was using me, but…I wanted to find my friends, and she was the only thing I had. I didn’t have a ship, or power over portals—I was just the lucky, dumb fuck that didn’t die when he let the Darkness take him.”  
  
He waited again, and Asami held his hand a little tighter, and he looked at her. Something in him settled, and he let out a breath. “The short version is, she manipulated me—made me think Sora had chosen new friends over me, that he’d forgotten me, and Kairi.” He paused, and looked away once more. “I believed her, and I fell in to this…darkness, this hole where I was _so alone,_ and I was _angry,_ and _jealous…_ I tried to hurt this kid, just because Kairi didn’t have her heart,” he murmured, and he squeezed her hand, thinking of how _awful_ he’d been. “And then, when Sora showed up—when I found Kairi before him, and he didn’t seem to care, because Maleficent had talked me in to thinking he didn’t, I used powers she gave me—dark powers—to make a Heartless copy of him, set it to attack him.”  
  
Riku sounded so _broken_ that Asami’s desire to hold him finally far outweighed the feelings she was getting from him, and she wrapped herself around him, and at first, he stiffened.  
  
And then, like water breaking through a dam, he almost _puddled_ in to her, releasing a shuddering breath, leaning all his weight in to her, and it took several moments before he continued.  
  
“That wasn’t the worst of it,” he said, softly, but she didn’t let go, so he took a breath. “He chased after me when I took Kairi away—I almost killed myself, carrying her through a portal without any protection,” he murmured. “I almost killed someone else, someone who’d just tried to save someone he loved,” he said, and he held on to her too tightly. “I betrayed Sora, and he kept chasing me. I fought him, I didn’t hold back, I was so angry, and jealous, and…Leon is right, I tried to kill him, and when he won…”  
  
This time, Riku’s break took longer. She felt his chest aching, and she reached out, pressing her hand to his heart, and she lifted up, kissing his forehead, murmuring his name. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to tell me. You can finish later,” she offered.  
  
“No. This part…I need to tell you. Now.” He felt her warmth seeping in to him, and her _light_ was creeping through, wrapping around his heart, which was aching so terribly, he wondered if he could sleep with her tonight—he wondered if he could keep the nightmares out, to protect her.  
  
“I ran.” He stopped, and he reached for his heart, but her hand was there, and it jolted him. She met his eyes, and there was a warmth and gentleness to her that let him breathe. “I was weak, and I did the dumbest thing yet—I let this creepy dude in a cloak tell me to open my heart to Darkness.” He waited, and it took a few breaths for him to continue. “It was Ansem. Well, not the real Ansem, but that’s…convoluted and stupid—but it was Xehanort’s Heartless, a _Heartless._ I let him in, and…he possessed me,” he said.  
  
Her heart dropped—it felt like it’d been encased in _ice._ “He used me. Tried to kill Sora, to set Kairi’s heart free, but Sora won.” He scoffed. “Sora _always_ won,” he said, and there was something gentle in those words. “He discarded my body—took his own form, after Sora freed Kairi. Ansem tried to hurt her, and Donald and Goofy, but…” He stopped, and he almost smiled—just the tiniest twitch of his lips. “I wouldn’t let him. I’d all but lost myself, already, but I’d fought _so_ hard, just to get Kairi back, I _couldn’t_ let Ansem hurt her…I held him back, just long enough for them to escape.”  
  
He stopped, and he swallowed. “I was lost. Sora and Kairi don’t know, but…I fell. I lost my body—I got taken by the Dark Realm, even though my heart was stronger than Ansem’s Heartless,” he murmured. “I thought I was dead.”  
  
Asami couldn’t help it.  
  
She pressed in to him, kissing him, gripping his hair with one hand, the other clutched in his shirt, right over his heart. “Stop,” she breathed. “Stop. I can’t—I can’t think of you—of you—” She was _shaking._ Shaking hard enough that Riku had to _hold_ her on his lap. “I can’t think of you _gone._ You’re here.” The words were breathless, gasped, and she was all but crying—Riku could _feel_ her heart beating too hard.  
  
As hard as his had, last night.  
  
“You’re here,” she said again, and she kissed him again, and Riku let her, and gently ran his hand up and down her spine, trying to calm her. “I can’t—my chest hurts,” she gasped.  
  
“It’s okay,” he soothed, and he turned all his attention to her, and he tilted her head up to him, meeting her eyes. “You’re okay, Asami,” he said, and he took her hand, pulling it to his mouth, kissing her palm. “I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
She gasped, and Riku _felt_ it. “It’s okay,” he said again, and he pulled her hand to his heart, pressing it flat against his chest. “You feel that? I’m right here,” he repeated, and he leaned in, kissing her just once. “Right here, sweetheart. Take a deep breath.”  
  
She gasped again, so ragged that it _hurt_ in his throat, and Riku made a decision.  
  
He leaned in and found her mouth and _forced_ her to breathe at _his_ pace, pinching her nose closed to force her to obey him.  
  
She didn’t respond for almost an entire minute, before she caught up to what he was doing.  
  
At last, she nodded, when he pulled back for a breath. “Okay,” she said, but her voice was barely there.  
  
Riku waited, watching her. “Breathe with me, okay?”  
  
She nodded, and though she struggled, at first, Asami slowly managed to match his rhythm, still shivering, until she leaned in to him. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s alright,” he soothed, and he held her to him, still worried. “You talked me down last night,” he said, gently. “Only fair that I return the favor.”  
  
She scoffed in his shoulder, but she was beginning to relax. “Twenty-four hours and we’re both having panic attacks,” she muttered. “What a pair.” Still, she waited a moment, and he felt her hand press against his chest again. “You, uh…you obviously weren’t…dead,” she said, and he heard her swallow a gasp after. “How did you…?”  
  
“Mickey,” he said, gently. “Mickey found me. I’m still a little fuzzy on the details,” he admitted, softly, “but we’ll just say it was Mickey. He found me, led me to the door to the Heart of the Worlds,” he said, and he squinted a little, thinking, but looked at her. “You would’ve come back here, about that time,” he added, and he smiled a little, because…she was _here. Now._ Here for him to meet her, to find her, and…maybe, if everything hadn’t lined up, he couldn’t have met her.  
  
Maybe it could have, but he drew a small comfort from the thought that it was…necessary to have the steps to get to _here,_ with her. “Mickey guided me through that…place, though. Kept me from being alone,” he said, and he curled his arms around her a little tighter, pulling her against his chest.  
  
Asami went willingly, snuggling in to him. “You don’t ever have to be alone again,” she said, and he _felt_ it. In her heart—in his.  
  
Riku let himself give in to that—to her, to her _heart._  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
They stayed that way for a long time, until the air cooled around them and the sky began to turn, and Asami sighed. “I guess we should go home. I have the impression we didn’t get to everything you intended today,” she guessed.  
  
“Well, no,” he admitted, but he pulled back, watching her. “But I think you made progress. Let’s try just a few more rounds—see if a moment away gave you some more control.”  
  
Asami found herself smiling. Riku wasn’t going to just _walk away._ He was an intense person, she could tell, and that was trickling in to his urge to help her. “Okay.”  
  
The first time, she didn’t manage to call it at all—perhaps she had gotten a little _too_ relaxed.  
  
But a few more tries and she reacted fast enough to block him more than once, and Riku, at the last, pulled her close and kissed her. “You’re amazing,” he murmured.  
  
She laughed, and shook her head. “I’m determined,” she said, and she believed it. “I’ve been that way my whole life. I’m just…willing to keep going. Keep pushing. That’s all,” she said.  
  
Riku shook his head, and he held her tightly to him, letting out a breath. “It’s so much more than that,” he said, and he waited a moment, feeling overwhelmed. “Can’t you feel it?”  
  
She hesitated, and then laid her hand on his chest. “I…yeah.” She hesitated, and then nodded. “I just…it’s hard to…accept,” she admitted, softly. “It isn’t that I don’t believe you think that way, it’s just…”  
  
“I understand.” He did—he knew all too well. Sora had thought the best of him, and Riku…  
  
Riku had _known_ he was wrong. Riku didn’t deserve any kind of praise or applause or _thanks._ He owed Sora, he owed _the worlds,_ for his stupidity.  
  
He was only now beginning to believe he’d done something to repent.  
  
He waited for a long moment, holding her, and he buried his head in her shoulder. He kept his voice soft, and spoke gently, turning his head up so she could hear him. “But I hope you learn to accept it, one day.”  
  
Riku _felt_ the hit of emotion that caused, and he held her tighter for it, clutching her in his arms, and she let out a very quiet gasp.  
  
He knew she was crying, a little, but he didn’t mention it, or push her.  
  
Once she collected herself, and had settled again, she nodded. “Okay,” she murmured, and her voice was still just a little strained. “Let’s go home. I think…” She paused, and she let out a little laugh. “Well, I’m _definitely_ worn out. No question,” she admitted.  
  
Riku smiled, “I might be, too,” he said, honestly. Admitting to his…unending, childish stupidity and _all his mistakes,_ and dealing with trying to keep himself together about it…that was difficult.  
  
On top of that, feeling _her_ emotions seeping through their bond was…overwhelming, too, in its own way. It wasn’t a _bad_ thing, but he certainly wasn’t used to it, yet, either.  
  
When they walked back together, Riku and Asami worked simultaneously to take down the Heartless—they could strike down large groups with admirable speed, just from their strength together. Asami didn’t use her katana even _once_ on the way home.  
  
And at home, they were both quiet, settling in, feeling the exhaustion set in, from the emotional turmoil and the physical exertion, too. Asami chose another simple meal, and when Riku had nothing else to do, he just wrapped himself around her from behind, just to have her in his arms. He hummed a quiet, broken melody he remembered his mother singing when he was little, and Asami leaned in to him when he did, turning her head up in to his neck, just _resting_ for a moment or two at a time.  
  
He took his shower, first, again, but Asami lingered when he told her he was out, and then reached for him, pulling him closer, kissing him in a way that lingered on his lips even after she pulled away. She curled her fingers through his. “I’m being lazy, but…will you help me take my hair down?”  
  
A knot he didn’t know was there suddenly released in Riku’s chest, and he nodded instantly.  
  
She had braided it on itself, and she had pins everywhere, but he had to feel for them—they were black, and her hair was a dark brown that made them hard to see, especially in the soft light of her home.  
  
But she reached up and pulled some of them out, letting out a groan when the braid finally fell back down, and she sighed. “I’m tempted to cut it off,” she admitted.  
  
Riku shook his head, and he pulled at the little band holding her hair, and started dragging his fingers through her hair to pull out the braid. “Please don’t,” he murmured, and he was gentle, but his fingers were deft in pulling her hair free of the shape she’d made. “I like it like this,” he added, and he had smoothed most of it out, now. “I can play with it, if it’s down.”  
  
Asami let out one of those noises that made him want to _forget_ that he was on a mission when he had it all loose, combing his fingers through her hair, and he pushed it forward over her shoulder, dipping his head, kissing her nape.  
  
“Riku,” she murmured, but Riku just nuzzled the back of her head.  
  
“I suppose I should let you shower,” he said, quietly.  
  
Was he trying to kill her?  
  
But she nodded, and slipped out of his arms, and decided her shower should be _cold_ to start.  
  
When she got out (in truth, she hadn’t been able to take the time she wanted, because her chest was aching _horribly,_ now that she wasn’t with him), she found Riku sitting on her bed.  
  
Her heart jumped—partly from fear, and partly from _hope._ “Riku?”  
  
“I don’t think I can sleep without you again,” he said, softly, and he reached for her, starting to stand.  
  
But she didn’t hesitate—she went to him willingly, moving forward to meet him, going to sit at his side, but Riku picked her up with almost no effort, and Asami wound up with her legs around his waist as he sat, pulling her tightly against his chest. She had to swallow a gasp, trying to focus. “I almost came in for you,” he continued, softly, though the words were muffled in her shoulder. “I think…I think this is getting _stronger,_ ” he murmured.  
  
Asami tried _not_ to think of how well he fit her—how _perfectly_ she fit in his arms, how he was just the right height to wrap himself around her, how she could feel his strength through the plain t-shirt he wore, how—  
  
She had to stop. Now.  
  
“Riku,” she breathed, and she held her breath for a moment, blanking her mind, making herself come back to _here,_ now, and the fact that _they barely knew each other._  
  
Even if it didn’t feel like that.  
  
She buried her face against his shoulder in turn, shaking her head. “I know. I can barely think if I’m not in the same room,” she admitted, and Riku felt her fingers clutch the back of his shirt. “It feels so…intense. It’s hard not to be near you,” she added, shaking her head.  
  
“I know,” he breathed, and Asami’s breath caught at the soft huskiness in his tone.  
  
She could _feel_ it, especially as focused as she was on him, and she took a breath. “Not that I’m opposed,” she said, quietly, “because you totally owe me for earlier, but…” She hesitated, and shook her head. “I think…I think you should—I think _we_ should sleep,” she said, at last, though it sounded like she had some trouble getting it out. “As intense as all this is, I…I don’t want this to happen _like this._ ” The words had a tone Riku couldn’t pin with a name, but it brought him up short, when he’d been so _lost_ in her, especially once he had her in his arms. “There are things I need to tell you, before…this. And it’s not to…to persuade you or anything, it’s just…there are things you need to know.” She stopped, and she looked at him. Her smile was sad, and tired, and it made Riku’s chest _ache._ “Things I think…I think it would be cruel to keep from you, the way we’re going.”  
  
Riku’s heart jumped, and he hesitated. He reached for her, and then paused, but slid his hand to her hip. A million questions popped in his head—some of which, he didn’t even know where they came from—but when he looked at her eyes, the swirling thoughts settled, and he nodded. “Okay,” he said, and he _felt_ it. He could wait.  
  
He let her slip away from him, and he climbed in bed after her, and he instantly pulled her in to him, tonight, _needing_ her in his arms.  
  
She let out a soft sigh, and when his arm curled around her, she caught his hand and pulled it up to her mouth, kissing his palm. “Thank you, Riku.”  
  
He hummed, feeling sleep settling on him, now that he could feel her, safe and sound, in his grasp. “Hm?”  
  
“For a lot of things,” she said, and she squeezed his hand. “Letting me practice. And giving me time. Listening to me, tonight—and my hair,” she said, and there was a warmth in those words. “It’s been an age since someone else has taken care of my hair. It felt so nice,” she said, and she sounded so happy that Riku squeezed her hand in return, nuzzling the back of her head. “And for…for telling me about you. I know it wasn’t easy.”  
  
He felt a shot of fear in his stomach, but it dissipated when she kissed his hand again, and he let out his breath. “Thank you for listening,” he said, and the words were quiet, but tense. “You’re not…afraid of me, now, are you?”  
  
She shook her head. “No, sweetheart. Our past may shape who we are, but it’s only a piece of the person we become. If we never learned and grew with experience…we’d still be like toddlers.” She paused here, and squeezed his hand. “You were a kid, Riku. Maybe you were a bit dumb, but…we all are, as teenagers,” she said, quietly. “Everyone makes mistakes.” She felt something—not physically, but it was like he was _shaking._ She turned over to face him, and she cupped his cheek, smiling at him. “That’s not the man I see, honey. That’s not what I _feel,_ right here,” she said, and she laid her hand on his chest.  
  
Riku’s heart jumped again, but this time, it was a _good_ feeling. “You were used and manipulated, and you were just a _kid._ Maleficent used your loyalty against you, and that’s not _your_ fault, it’s hers. You wanted to help your friends. It’s okay,” she said, softly, and Riku felt like she was squeezing his heart in a vice—but it was a _good_ thing, like she was trying to _wring out_ the demons that kept telling him he’d been a dumb fuck. “You obviously learned from it, and you’re _strong,_ Riku. Strong enough to come away from it and never fall for it again,” she soothed, and her fingers brushed his bangs back from his face. “Learning from the past is the part that’s important. You might not be this person if it hadn’t happened—and I feel this _strength_ in you, Riku. It makes me feel safe,” she whispered. “I trust you. I trust how _good_ you are, honey. _This_ is you now,” she said, and she pressed on his chest, “and I barely know you, but I _admire_ you. You’re incredible.” She smiled, and she leaned in, kissing him gently. “Hearts don’t lie. That dumb kid grew up to be a wonderful man, sweetheart. I _feel_ it.”  
  
If he was a different person, Riku might have started crying.  
  
But he was stunned, and overwhelmed, and there was some panic over it, too, induced by his self-doubt, but…  
  
But it was all wrapped up in this _feeling,_ like he _knew_ she meant it.  
  
He _knew_ she **_meant_** it.  
  
So he pulled her close, and kissed her, breathing her name against her lips, kissing her until she lost her breath and put her hand up between their lips, giggling, “Babe, your lungs are bigger than mine,” she said, softly, once he had pulled back. “Not that I’m opposed, but…you might make me pass out if you’re not careful.”  
  
Riku clutched her for a long moment, and then kissed her again, but this time, he didn’t steal her breath quite so much. Instead, he moved after, kissing the tip of her nose, and then her forehead, and he just held her for a long moment. “Thank you.”  
  
Asami smiled, and she kissed him back. “Get some rest, honey,” she murmured, and she laid her hand on his chest. “We both need it. And I’ll be here, if you have any nightmares,” she said, and she kissed him again, very softly. “I’ll help you.”  
  
Riku _believed_ her.  
  
In fact, he felt like she would help him even _before_ he had them—he felt like the light and strength of her heart was seeping in, protecting him.  
  
So he let her turn off the light, and she snuggled back in to his arms, and Riku waited until she fell asleep.  
  
This time, he barely counted thirty of her breaths before he was gone, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for now—until I have time to finish and post a new chapter.
> 
> They're moving slow, but fast, and I think they're learning as they go, a lot.
> 
> A little backstory for Asami, now, too—but we'll eventually hear her story, I promise!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed that!
> 
> Remember, reviews really _do_ help, even if it's something like, "hey, I like this!" I always take constructive criticism, and if you spot errors or feel like something's off, feel free to tell me! I'm a talker, so I really don't mind if you just stop in to mention something or ask a question—I don't have as much time to write, but a little reply won't take me as long as a chapter!
> 
> Have a nice time, guys! I hope the new year is good to everyone!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own _Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy,_ or **ANY** _Disney_ property. I make no profit off this. I'm just writing for fun.
> 
> Hi guys! I meant to update before now, but life has been...chaotic.
> 
> Not that that's new, but it's been more than normal, so I haven't had as much time to write.
> 
> Anyway, you lot have waited long enough—I hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t Riku who woke up from a nightmare, this time, however.  
  
It was Asami.  
  
She shot out of the bed, throwing Riku’s arm off her and grabbing one of the katanas on her bedroom wall, despite the lack of light—Riku could only see her outline in the faint light coming through the window, and as disoriented as he was, his heart was _hammering_ in his chest.  
  
He knew part of it was his own fear for Asami, but so much of it…  
  
So much of it was _hers._  
  
“Asami? What’s wrong?” He kept his voice gentle, because he could _feel_ it—she was like a cornered animal, ready to bolt. She had the katana pointed toward him, and she was wild-eyed. “Asami, it’s Riku.”  
  
She didn’t quite seem to recognize him at first, and Riku, very slowly, reached out and turned on the light, and he saw her shaking. “Asami, it’s okay. It’s Riku.”  
  
The katana clattered on the floor with a greater noise than he expected—he jumped, it was so loud in the little room, the quiet of the night—and she gasped raggedly. “Riku?”  
  
“It’s me, sweetheart,” he soothed, “you’re okay. You had a nightmare,” he said.  
  
She waited, hesitating, teetering. “Am I awake?” She looked around the room, and though lit only by the little lamp, Riku could see the fear—no, the _terror_ —on her face. Her eyes darted from the window to each of the doors, and around the room a few times, before they went back to Riku. “Am I home?”  
  
Riku couldn’t imagine what had happened to her—something horrible, he could only guess, and he didn’t want to linger on the thought, because _she needed him, whole and here, right now_ —but he felt like she’d _punched_ him, her panic was so clear and strong. “You’re home, Asami. You’re safe, you’re with me,” he said, gently. “You’re shaking. Do you want to sit down?”  
  
Her eyes darted to the window twice while he spoke, but they settled back on him after a moment. “Yeah,” she said, but she didn’t move—she had her back to the wall.  
  
“Is it okay if I come to you?”  
  
Asami froze, and then nodded, almost timidly.  
  
Riku threw the covers back and stood, and he approached her slowly, afraid she might bolt—but he wanted to be able to back off if she seemed like she might panic more. He wanted to be able to react to _her,_ to read her and adjust to what _she_ needed.  
  
However, when he actually got closer, she began to settle a little. Riku offered her his hand.  
  
It took her a moment, but she took it, at last, and then, she crumpled. “Riku?”  
  
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothed, “It’s me.”  
  
She instantly rushed in to him—he grunted, she slammed in to him so hard—and she was shaking.  
  
And _then_ she started _crying_ and Riku’s heart _shattered._ He curled his arms around her, stroking from the top of her head down to the base of her spine, “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothed. “It’s okay.”  
  
He didn’t know what else to do—how to help.  
  
But Asami nodded in to his chest, and though he barely felt it, he was _grateful_ that she was listening. She was still, clearly, calming down, so he lifted her gently. He climbed on the bed and settled at the top, propping himself against the pillows, and Asami curled in to him. She threw her legs over the side of his, holding a death grip around his ribs.  
  
Riku let her cry herself out, and when she began to calm, he kissed her temple softly, letting her go just long enough to wipe the corners of her eyes. “What can I do?”  
  
He felt helpless, and he wanted nothing more than to _make this go away._ Nothing had _ever_ hurt _so much_ in his _life_ as seeing her crying.  
  
But she just shook her head. “This is enough,” she said, and her voice was broken, but he believed her. “Just…hold me, just a little while longer.”  
  
Riku did.  
  
She eventually began to relax, and leaned in to him, loosening her death grip, instead pressing one of her hands to his heart, the other around his back. She let out a little breath. “Can we go in the kitchen?”  
  
“Of course,” he said, without even a pause to think. Riku would do _anything_ to fix this, _right now._ He’d give himself back up to Ansem if it’d keep her safe and happy and sane.  
  
It was a comforting thought to think that she would never want that—that she would give anything _not_ to have him in that situation, in turn.  
  
“Want me to carry you?”  
  
“Would you hate me if I told you I want you to?”  
  
“I’d prefer it,” he assured her.  
  
It took him very little effort to get off the bed, never letting go of her, and she flipped the lights on as he passed. He carried her to the kitchen without any show of strain on his part—he was more than strong enough to carry her. “Want something?”  
  
She hesitated, “I can get it.”  
  
“Okay.” He didn’t want to push her, not when there was something _shaky_ and _fragile_ about her, still. So he put her down, as gently as he could.  
  
She started to move away, and then she hesitated again, looking up at him. “Will you…will you just, will you…”  
  
He _sensed_ it, and he took her hand, lacing their fingers, and she settled _instantly._  
  
She made them both a warm drink, and then Riku scooped her up again, carrying her to the living room. He settled on the couch at her insistence, and she snuggled in to his side, and he was quick to wrap his arm around her. She pulled a blanket off the corner of the couch and covered them in it.  
  
She sipped her drink for a while, and she began to settle again, relaxing in to him, and Riku could _feel_ her calming down, at last. She snuggled in to his side warmly, and Riku didn’t pull her in his lap, but he would have, if she even _thought_ she wanted him to.  
  
But there was still something there, and she didn’t look at him when she finally spoke. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, too quietly.  
  
It sounded…embarrassed. Maybe even… _angry._ But not at him.  
  
At herself.  
  
“Asami, you don’t need to apologize.”  
  
There was something powerful, and soothing, in his words.  
  
“You actually mean that,” she said.  
  
It wasn’t a question.  
  
It was…surprised. Perhaps even a little disbelieving.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I?” He curled his hand around hers, where she held her drink. “You had a nightmare. It’s alright.”  
  
She hadn’t quite looked at him, yet, but she responded to his touch by snuggling closer in to his arm, and Riku dipped his head, kissing the part in her hair. “It’s alright, Asami.”  
  
She shook a little bit, and then nodded, and she gasped, and then began to laugh. “I…” She shook her head, and Riku jumped a little, mostly because the movement almost _tickled._ “Thank you,” she murmured.  
  
He was puzzled, but he could _feel_ that same, strange barrier, preventing him from reading her.  
  
So he stroked her hair, and kissed her once more. “Sure.”  
  
She finished her drink, and Riku set it aside, and Asami pulled the blanket up, tucking it around herself. “Can we sleep in here? Please?”  
  
Riku had known the question was coming, even though he couldn’t read her.  
  
It was a feeling in the pit of his gut—a feeling from _her,_ that she _could not stay in her bedroom._  
  
“Of course.”  
  
She almost _wilted_ at his agreement, and Asami kissed his ribs, and then his hand, and she cuddled him a little tighter, which made him let out a tiny, involuntary laugh. “You’re gonna tickle me if you keep that up,” he teased, gently, and he pulled at her hair, very softly. “If you let me lie on my back, you can sleep on my chest.”  
  
She considered the idea for a moment, and then, slowly, she nodded.  
  
She reluctantly stood, and Riku followed, and he dipped down, kissing her forehead. “I’m coming right back. Less than two minutes. I promise.”  
  
She didn’t want him to go—he felt it—but she reluctantly nodded, and Riku _sprinted_ to the bedroom.  
  
He grabbed her quilt and a pillow, flipped off the lights as he returned, and he took only one more sip from his own drink, before he stretched out on her couch.  
  
It was much, much too little, and his feet were far over the opposite end, but Riku settled himself at a slight angle—tilting toward the back of the couch, and curling his legs a little.  
  
His body formed a little cradle.  
  
He gestured, and Asami asked if he was sure, but he was _more_ than certain, and she climbed on.  
  
It took her a moment to figure out how to settle in, but then, she pressed her back to the back of the couch, and her knees curled toward her chest. Riku offered her one of the little pillows from the couch, but she shook her head—she laid her head on his chest, and her hand, too. He felt her finger making a line on his chest with every beat of his heart, and he grabbed the blanket from the couch, wrapping her snugly in it, and then the blanket from the bed, and that he pulled over the both of them.  
  
Asami was already starting to settle again, and Riku suspected it was the way she was listening to his heart.  
  
“Riku?”  
  
Her voice was drowsy, and…weak.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”  
  
She sounded… _afraid._  
  
“I will, Asami. I promise.” He tugged at the hand she had on his heart, pulling it to his lips. “I _promise._ I’m not going to budge until you’re awake.”  
  
She turned her head up enough to look at him, as though wondering if she had imagined his words. But she blinked, slowly—almost like a cat—and then nodded. “Thank you,” she murmured.  
  
Riku expected her to turn away from him again, but she didn’t. She watched him, keeping her eyes on him, and they blinked closed again, before snapping open, and Riku smiled. “I’m not leaving. I’m right here,” he soothed.  
  
She hummed, not quite cognitive enough to do more than that, and she kept her eyes on him, but they blinked closed again, and snapped open.  
  
But he could see her getting too tired to hold her eyes open, and he kissed her palm gently. “Sleep, Asami. You’re safe. I’m here,” he soothed.  
  
Asami’s eyes drooped—not quite closing, but then she looked at him again, and they drooped, and then, at last, he _felt_ her lose the fight against sleep.  
  
Her body was heavy on his, but Riku was _more_ than strong enough to bear her weight.  
  
He watched her for a long time, afraid she might snap awake again, but when she didn’t after several minutes, Riku let his own eyes close.  
  
Before sleep took him, he felt her finger start moving against his heart again, but it wasn’t consistent—it was faint, small twitches.  
  
Riku was certain it meant she was deep enough in sleep to _dream,_ and that allowed Riku to let go, too.  
  
He woke up before her, but it wasn’t by much.  
  
His arm was numb from her weight, and he was definitely not comfortable, but…  
  
Asami was sleeping _soundly._ Her finger was now still upon his chest, and she’d more comfortably cuddled him in sleep.  
  
Her breathing was calm and even and more shallow, and even as Riku subtly shifted, just a little, she made a breathy noise and moved a little, and sighed in her sleep.  
  
He wanted to let her sleep, but he knew he needed to move—he needed to _stretch._ He slowly moved his legs a little, straightening them out, and he wiggled his toes a little, but he did his best not to disturb her.  
  
It took her a few minutes to actually stir, but she instantly gripped his shirt, the moment she was aware again. “Riku?”  
  
“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said. “I promised.”  
  
She burrowed her face in his chest, and she was shaking again, but only a little. “You promised,” she said, but it was muffled by his shirt.  
  
Riku let her react as she needed; let her take a few deep breaths, and then, she slowly climbed off him, and Riku sat up. He stretched, and then got to his feet, and he wrapped her in his arms.  
  
It was definitely morning, this time, but he didn’t want to rush her—even if they had as little time as yesterday.  
  
She settled the moment she was securely in his hold, and she let out a breath, burying her face against him again. “Let me make breakfast,” he offered.  
  
“It’s okay,” she murmured, but she had her arms around his middle. “I just…I just need a minute.” She shook her head, and he heard her laugh. “I’m such a baby,” she muttered, under her breath. “You got possessed and dragged to the Realm of Darkness and you’re a _Keyblade Master_ despite it all and I’m just…”  
  
“Don’t,” Riku said, firmly. “Your pain is _yours._ It’s not diminished by anything _anyone else_ has endured,” he said, and he tipped her head up, holding her chin so she had to look at him. “No one can take from you the things you’ve survived. No one _is_ you, Asami,” he said, and he paused, “and you’re not me. You can’t weigh one person’s pain against someone else’s. You have a right to your pain—and to your _strength,_ for enduring it.” He let go of her, gently, and he stroked her hair. “Don’t discredit yourself—there is _nothing_ about you that is _just_ anything. Don’t diminish anything that you are by putting ‘just’ before it.” He paused, and he dipped his head, gently kissing her forehead. “You can tell someone you’re _just_ a Keyblade wielder, or you can tell them _you’re a Keyblade wielder._ Don’t insult yourself.”  
  
She froze in his arms, and Riku hesitated, before he dipped again, and he kissed the top of her head gently. “I know that you’ve been through something—and I’m not asking you to tell me—but for all we know, _I_ wouldn’t have survived what _you_ did.” He said the words gently, but he meant them. “You have every right to your pain—and to your strength. Don’t let anyone, even _you,_ take that away.”  
  
Asami was shaking again, but she slowly nodded, and she pressed back in to him.  
  
He let her calm herself down. “Thank you, Riku,” she murmured.  
  
He nodded, and she finally pulled back, and then tugged him toward the kitchen.  
  
She was quiet through breakfast, which Riku made (he definitely didn’t have a lot of cooking skills, but she admired that he’d do it, anyway), and Riku told her to take her time getting ready.  
  
He only needed to brush his teeth and put on his boots and jacket again.  
  
He waited in the living room for her (after washing the cups from the night before, and the dishes from breakfast), and she didn’t have her hair braided as she had yesterday. She had only one braid going down her back, and she still looked tired, and Riku felt it pull at his heartstrings. “Do you need to sleep a little longer?”  
  
“No, I’ll be better when we get going,” she promised. “Get my mind off it.”  
  
Riku wondered if he should listen, but he decided he needed to trust her. He nodded, and they set off again.  
  
She struggled with her Keyblade the first few encounters, but as the fights passed and they neared the training grounds, she began to calm and center herself again, and Riku began to relax. She wasn’t _completely_ shaken.  
  
They started as they had the previous day—her trying to focus and call her Keyblade to block him, and she managed much quicker, this time.  
  
They worked at her spells, and Riku turned them to target practice—he threw discs made for that purpose, encouraging her to target them with her magic, though he assured her she’d eventually have even further control of her Keyblade.  
  
She had settled a great deal by that time, and she seemed confident again, which made Riku feel better.  
  
Well, other than the irrepressible urge to hold her.  
  
That, he had to give in to, finally, and he pulled her in to his arms, and she instantly settled against him, nuzzling her face in to his collar. “You know, you’re a harder taskmaster than Leon,” she murmured, but the words were warm.  
  
“Am I?” Riku could tell she was tired, likely from the lack of sleep on top of her work today. “He seems like he’d be a hardass if he’s training you.”  
  
“Oh, he is. But he also gives more breaks than you do,” she said, and she laid her hand on his heart. “Although I get why you aren’t giving me much.”  
  
Riku _felt_ that in his chest, and it _hurt._ “I don’t want to leave you without all the skills I can offer,” he said, softly, and he started to rub her back. “But lunch wouldn’t hurt.”  
  
She hummed at him in agreement, and they made their way home again.  
  
When they sat down at the table, Asami put her head on her arms for a long moment. “You know, I know you said…I don’t have to apologize,” she said, after she had given herself a minute, “but I want to. I…had hoped I could tell you, _before_ I had any…nightmares. But yesterday sort of…brought things back,” she murmured. “I know it’s not fair not to explain what happened last night, but I’ll tell you, before you have to leave.” She paused, and she smiled at him, though it looked a little fragile. “Okay?”  
  
Riku wanted to have the table out of the way and just wrap her in his arms, because there was something so _fragile_ about her right then, and yet…  
  
Something stronger than _any_ Keyblade.  
  
Riku was beginning to believe that, even if someone could strike her down in battle, if she was on the brink of death—  
  
Asami would fight long past her last breath. She was _strong,_ she was a fighter. She was fighting her own demons, and _his,_ too.  
  
She was fighting the feelings he knew were seeping through their bond.  
  
He wondered if he could leave her to go back to the Realm of Darkness, without giving in to the incessant, insistent feelings that were growing stronger by the _second._  
  
He wondered if he could leave her _at all._  
  
He tightened his hand in to a fist to hold himself back, and then he reached across the table and took her hand, _squeezing_ it in both of his. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “Not unless you want to. Not until you’re _ready_ to tell me.”  
  
Her shoulders loosened and her smile softened, looking more real—it reached her eyes, this time. “I know, honey,” she said, softly. “That’s…part of why I know I _will,_ ” she said, and she laid her free hand over his. “But not today. I want to be away from it.” She hesitated, and then let out a long breath. “I’d rather tell you in the morning. I’d rather be able to train after—to get my mind of it, to have… _normalcy._ Room to step away.”  
  
Riku understood that. It was a coping mechanism, a distraction—a way to walk away from the things of the past, to protect oneself. “Okay.”  
  
Asami relaxed a little more, and they settled in to eat.  
  
After they were done, they headed back to the training grounds, but this time, it was occupied—Leon, Yuffie, Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith were all there.  
  
Yuffie bounded toward them and wrapped Asami in a bone-crushing hug, “Asami! You haven’t been out here in _ages!_ I was starting to think you were too good for us,” she teased, grinning.  
  
“I mean, I’ve kicked your ass a few times, but I’m still learning,” she returned, and Yuffie punched her in the arm. “Besides, running errands between the castle and the town—I’ve got more practice than any of you, as it is.”  
  
Leon snickered quietly.  
  
But Yuffie had turned to Riku. “Jeez, kid, you grew up _tall,_ ” she said. “Is Sora that big?”  
  
Asami burst out laughing, unable to help it, and Riku couldn’t help himself, either—he let out a soft snort that hid a small laugh. “Sora’s about Asami’s height. He’s about to my chin.” Yuffie looked at him, apparently trying to picture it. “Still a goofball, too. He’s not changed too much,” he offered, seeming to understand. “He’s had some trouble, lately. He’s off regaining his strength.”  
  
Yuffie shook her head. “Life’s never dull for you two, is it?”  
  
“I don’t think I’ve had a day off since I was fifteen,” he said, and he grinned, but Asami felt something _under_ it—a little pain, and all that exhaustion. “Sora did get to take a year-long nap. Might’ve been longer, but time flies.”  
  
Yuffie nodded, “Yeah, that time we forgot him,” she said, and Asami’s eyebrow shot up. “What’re you doin’ here, kid? I didn’t know you knew Asami.”  
  
“He didn’t,” Asami said, shaking her head. “He was here doing some save-the-world business. I just…sort of got in the way of it, a bit.”  
  
But Riku shook his head and curled his arm around her waist, pulling her in. “You’re not in the way,” he murmured, gently, just for her. “More like she walked in the room and I forgot how to function.”  
  
Yuffie looked lost, and Asami laughed. “It’s…weird. Sort of complicated. Basically, we’re…meant to be together.” She paused, and shook her head. “Although that’s breaking it down to less than the basic gist, but…our hearts knew each other, the moment we met. It derailed everything, it was just…” She stopped, and Riku felt her struggling for the words. “Overwhelming. I knew him, somehow, even though I’d never met him. It’s hard not to be near him—even a shower feels like too long apart.” She let out a sigh. “He’s staying to train me,” she said, and she held out her hand. Her Keyblade appeared. “Turns out I can use one of these.”  
  
Yuffie looked surprised, and then grinned. “Please tell me you’ve kicked his ass just _once._ ”  
  
“Yuffie, I can’t even kick _Leon’s_ ass,” she said, but she was grinning, too. “And from what I’ve seen, Riku could hand Leon _his_ ass on a silver platter.”  
  
Leon’s eyebrows shot up. “I think you might be underestimating me, a bit,” he suggested.  
  
“Look, you and I never throw our hardest against each other, but I’ve seen Riku against the Heartless. He takes most of them down with just one hit—and his magic is _definitely_ better than yours,” she said, honestly. “I’m pretty sure he could carry me on his back and still not sweat any of the encounters here.”  
  
Riku, amazingly, looked rather proud at her declaration, and he dipped his head, planting a little kiss on the top of her head. “Don’t encourage him—he might actually try to take me down for real,” he teased.  
  
“I think he’d have trouble taking us both,” Cloud said, and he glanced at Asami, and then back to Riku. “What do you say? Has Asami seen you _really_ fight?”  
  
Riku seemed surprised, and then he looked between Cloud and Leon, and then at Asami. “Not really,” he said. “The Heartless here require almost none of my attention.”  
  
“How about a challenge, then?” Cloud and Leon both stepped forward. “Sora could take us down not long after we first met, and the Heartless have gotten tougher. You wanna test your skill?”  
  
Riku looked at them again, and then he turned to Asami, and he dipped his head, meeting her eyes. “I’ll show you what you can do,” he said, softly. “Watch closely.”  
  
Asami struggled to let go of him, but she nodded, and stepped away. Riku summoned his Keyblade, and Asami saw a surprising, delighted grin on his face.  
  
“Don’t hold back—I’ve learned a lot of tricks.”  
  
The rest of them all cleared the area—stepping to a safe, distant place to watch, and Asami _felt_ the excitement radiating off Riku. It was a _thrill,_ having a challenge, having a fight that he could throw his effort in, but that had no dire consequence.  
  
He knew he couldn’t _really_ throw all his power against these two—he didn’t _actually_ want to hurt them.  
  
But they were tough enough to take his blows.  
  
Cloud made the first move—speeding toward him at a blistering pace, swinging his enormous sword as though it weighed as little as the old, wooden swords Riku and Sora had used as kids. Leon threw magic at the same time, and Riku planted himself and blocked Cloud’s advance, then threw him in the path of Leon’s magic.  
  
But Cloud didn’t stagger much—he readjusted his grip, apparently surprised by Riku’s skill. “You’re tougher than I expected.”  
  
“You have no idea,” Riku said, and it was true, though that was a little more like his old self—a cocky little shit who was a bit full of himself.  
  
Leon was already advancing, however.  
  
Riku had gotten a look at the man’s style when he fought Asami yesterday, and Leon was, as she’d assessed, more unpredictable than Cloud. He had magic on his side, and he was _definitely_ throwing harder hits at Riku than he had at Asami. He swung his weapon with more force than Riku expected, but Riku was a great deal stronger than _either_ of them could know.  
  
So he blocked until there was an opening, throwing himself between Leon’s wide swings, and struck the brunet hard enough to throw him back, but then Cloud was approaching again.  
  
Now that both had some measure of their opponent, they both had better ideas on how to take him on.  
  
Cloud rushed past him when he moved in, striking toward his back, but Riku was quicker—until he heard Leon throw a fireball at him.  
  
Riku had to block and then jump out of the way, but Cloud didn’t take the hit, this time.  
  
He realized Cloud was _definitely_ weaker to magic than Leon, which was sensible—the man didn’t seem to use magic at all.  
  
So Riku cast a crackling Thunder spell and turned back to focusing on Leon.  
  
As Asami had assessed, he was, potentially, the bigger threat—Cloud could hit hard, and the blow Riku had blocked was not a small one, but Riku could deal with that with little effort—due to his versatility.  
  
Riku cast spells to counteract Leon’s—using ice against fire, as it seemed to be Leon’s favorite—and managed to get close enough for another hit, but then Cloud was back again.  
  
Well, maybe he could get as could as he could give.  
  
With both of them facing him, Riku grinned. “Want some help from your friends?”  
  
“You’re a little shit,” Cloud said, but he wasn’t quite straight-faced about it.  
  
“Never said I wasn’t,” he replied, grinning. “Don’t hold back. You haven’t hit me yet.”  
  
Leon and Cloud glanced at each other in a quick moment of thought, and then tried again.  
  
Forgoing any magic, Leon just _jumped_ at Riku, and Cloud raced forward at his typical, unyielding speed.  
  
Riku jumped out of the way and found himself against a wall, and the two men were not going to give him a break.  
  
So he did the only sensible thing—he cast Aeroga to boost himself off the ground and over their heads, turning to face them again.  
  
Apparently deciding they’d read him enough and that they weren’t trying hard enough, Cloud and Leon took him on in earnest—moving faster, throwing harder blows, and Leon used magic, too.  
  
But Riku was quick and hit _hard,_ throwing Cloud back a few feet when he got a good hit in, and Leon was frozen to the spot when he took a full blast of Blizzaga to the face.  
  
Cloud _did_ manage to hit him, once, and Leon succeeded after cornering Riku between himself and Cloud, but Riku had extraordinary skill. He could climb walls and jump over their heads with ease, and he could block without seeming to need to think much about it—and his magic was, as Asami assessed, _much_ more powerful than Leon’s.  
  
When Cloud and Leon finally surrendered, Riku was, though breathing hard, not in _nearly_ as bad a shape as the other men. He offered Leon his hand—Cloud was already on his feet. “I’ll say you hit harder than Sora,” Riku said, grinning, “but he’s not built like you.”  
  
Leon groaned, but took Riku’s hand. He managed to pull Leon to his feet without any help from Leon himself. “ _You_ hit harder than _Cloud,_ ” he muttered, seeming very surprised.  
  
Cloud grunted. “Kid’s tougher than we thought,” he said, directing it at Leon. “I thought you would be right about him, but…”  
  
Riku’s eyebrow shot up, and he tilted his head. “You’re worried about Asami.”  
  
“More worried you didn’t have control,” Leon admitted. “Last time we heard anything about you, it was that you’d lost control of yourself to Ansem and you’d tried to hurt Sora.”  
  
Riku didn’t sputter, or argue—he just nodded. “A lot has happened since then.” He paused, and he looked at Asami—who, now that they were all standing and talking, was already making her way over. “I’m not that person anymore. I have control, now,” he said, and he felt Asami wrap around him, and he _felt_ it, suddenly, that he’d actually been _distracted_ in that fight, even though he’d won it. Everything snapped together, as soon as she was in his arms. “I’m a Keyblade Master. I have control—of who I am and what I’m doing. I won’t ever let that slip again,” he said, and he curled himself around Asami, who had buried her face in his chest, already. “I fought hard to get to this place. I can’t slip now,” he said, and he dipped his head, kissing the top of Asami’s. “I don’t know what I’d do if I had even…even a _moment_ that I let go. I can barely think when I’m not near her,” he said. “If I ever slipped, if I ever had just a _moment_ of inattention, and something happened…”  
  
Asami pressed her hand to his heart. “Don’t. You won’t, honey,” she murmured. “You won’t. I believe in you. I _trust_ you, Riku.” She seemed incapable of letting go of him, but he could hear her, despite how muffled she was by being so tightly pressed in to him. “I know I’m safe, always, with you.”  
  
Riku let that wrap him up—let it wrap around his heart and squeeze tight, because…she _meant that._  
  
And he wanted to believe it.  
  
He _did_ believe it.  
  
He pulled her in to him and held her, holding his breath for a long moment, just to feel _her_ breathing. He let it out at last, and nodded. “Thank you.” He pressed a little kiss to the top of her head.  
  
She nodded against his chest, but then, slowly, she reached for his hand. “I’m pretty sure I’m not capable of holding off Leon _and_ Cloud and basically _not_ take any damage, by the way.”  
  
Riku laughed. “You will be,” he said, and he tipped her head up. He smiled at her. “I know it.”  
  
She shook her head, “Give me a year or two, hon. I also can’t climb vertical walls without hand or footholds, at this point, so I think I have some work to do.”  
  
“You’ll take him down in no time,” Leon said, from behind her. “You always fight your hardest. Given the chance, I’d bet on you over anyone else.”  
  
Asami flushed and shook her head, but Riku gently squeezed her hand.  
  
“Right. We wanted to make sure you were alright—and Leon said he didn’t get to finish his training yesterday,” Yuffie started. “But we’ll clear out so you two can work.”  
  
Riku held out his hand, “You don’t have to. She’s a quick learner—and she has more control than she thinks.”  
  
There was a pause, and Aerith grinned. “I can heal her up if she gets too many bruises,” she teased, warmly.  
  
Asami laughed. “Can you cure exhaustion? He pushes me as far as I can bear it!”  
  
“Well, I’m pretty sure I can put you to sleep,” Aerith said, but she glanced at Riku after, “although he might beat me to it.”  
  
Asami rolled her eyes. “You are spending _entirely_ too much time with Yuffie.”  
  
Aerith grinned.  
  
But Riku set them to work—beginning again with summoning her Keyblade, as it was the _most important_ thing she could do. Everything else would follow once she was holding the thing, but if she couldn’t summon it, she had _nothing._  
  
She was getting better at it—moving faster, able to react even if he tried to surprise her by darting around either side of her, and he gave her a water break after she managed to throw a strike at him _before_ he tried to hit her.  
  
Leon watched her utterly _drown_ one of Riku’s fire spells in her own water spell, soaking the silver-haired man in the process, and Leon stopped his sparring with Cloud just to _laugh,_ because poor Riku looked _completely_ water-logged.  
  
He returned the favor not long after, and Asami’s hair fell out of its braid.  
  
That prompted another short break, during which Aerith had Asami sit down, and thereafter braided her hair tighter, weaving the soaked strands so they wouldn’t get in her face again.  
  
Riku threw targets for her again, and Yuffie helped, which was even more of a challenge.  
  
Riku pushed her until dark was creeping in, and Cloud, Tifa, and Yuffie had already headed toward home.  
  
“I think you should spar, before you go home.” It was Leon’s voice. “This is just training exercises. Have you ever fought her, Riku?”  
  
Riku froze, and it took him a moment to turn his eyes to Leon. “No.” The statement was an answer, but it was also _defiant,_ and yet defensive, and _scared._  
  
The idea was _petrifying._  
  
He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest at the very _thought._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand that there's apparently been talk about Cloud/Sephiroth not reappearing in the KH series, but...I don't know for sure? I don't really know why that wouldn't be the case (I haven't played FFVII to get any context clues about the characters, honestly) but I'm mostly including him for the sake of the plot of this story.
> 
> With that said, though I hope you guys enjoyed this!
> 
> Hopefully I can update again before the month is out, but we shall see how things go.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own _Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy,_ or **ANY** _Disney_ property. I make no profit off this. I'm just writing for fun.
> 
> Ooooooooooookay. So. Re Mind.
> 
> Ugh.
> 
> No spoilers from me, I'm just upset because, once more, Riku is basically _barely mentioned._ Almost nothing was added in regards to him, and...well, I have a number of complaints about that (seriously, Riku is one of the most WELL-WRITTEN characters in THE ENTIRE SERIES, and that's why I ADORE him, where others are either stagnant, annoying, or inconsistent. Or a combination of those. Riku, arguably, has the most well-developed character arc and he actually MATURES and CHANGES with the flow of the games—where many others either have very little development, or _none_ at all), and it's just...
> 
> *Rubs face.*
> 
> The entire DLC, in my opinion, is literally just fan service—and only addressing the LOUDEST fans, who are just whining because they can. It's a poorly-written set of bandaids that fill in information we basically ALREADY COULD GUESS, but it's so cool how you totally get to use someone other than Sora, RIGHT!? It's just a set of tiny patches that give you more information (that is, in fact, utterly unnecessary) to lead to MORE questions, which is EXACTLY what Nomura does ANYWAY, but he did a bang-up job of making it MORE ANNOYING THAN EVER.
> 
> So, that in mind, I will be taking VERY little from the DLC in regards to this story—in fact, what I use is basically just in relation to Riku, and it's mostly stuff that I assume can be found elsewhere.
> 
> On top of that, by the time I GET to that, it's likely all of you will have either PLAYED the DLC or have watched it online, so that there aren't spoilers.
> 
> Now, with that out of the way:
> 
> This chapter is actually one of the shorter ones, so far, and...honestly, it's a bit filler-y. Not that it's utterly unnecessary, but I tend to write out a few chapters ahead (for continuity, flow, and to have space away from it before I edit each one), and when I was separating them out, this one came up...insanely short. (Like, two-thousand words, ish? Most of the chapters are five- or six-thousand, thus far—but the two to follow are much longer, unless I can do some trimming.) So cue me sitting down to try and make it a worthwhile bit of reading, but it still fell very short, without me going full anime-style-filler (AKA, 90%) on this one.
> 
> But, there _is_ a reason it got cut the way it did, so hopefully this little pause isn't _too_ much of a break in the pacing. It's only about 4100-ish words, according to the document, so it falls short, but I'm not going to make it all fluff without any substance. I figure that's a waste of your time, and mine.
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoy this!

“Then you don’t know what she can do.”  
  
Riku turned toward Leon, and he shook his head. “No. I don’t want to hurt her.”  
  
“Riku,” Asami said, and she grabbed his hand. “You won’t. Besides, Aerith is a powerful healer. Even if you got me good, you’d stop, she can heal me up, and we can go from there,” she offered.  
  
Riku’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. “I don’t think I can,” he said—he felt like he was losing his breath, like he was on the verge of a panic attack again, like he was _dying._ It hurt so much that he wanted to clutch his chest—  
  
But when he reached to do so, Asami took his hand, and she laid hers on his chest, grounding him. She looked at him, touching his hair, cupping his cheek, just to remind him that he was _here, now,_ he was _with her,_ in this moment. “What if my life depends on _you_ fighting me? You can’t measure my skill by the Heartless, or Leon.” She let go of his hand, and curled hers around his bicep, the other pressed against his heart. “Leon isn’t wrong.”  
  
He instantly felt _worse,_ but…but…  
  
They were both right.  
  
He felt his hands shaking, and his mind flashed back to the moment he’d fought Sora.  
  
It made him sick, thinking of it.  
  
Sicker, picturing his body, out of his control, lashing out at Sora, doing Ansem’s bidding.  
  
Suddenly, he felt Asami’s lips on his, and the swirling hurricane of his thoughts _stopped,_ just long enough to pull him back to reality.  
  
Reality, where Asami was kissing him, her soft form pressing in to his, her hand pressed to his chest, the other cupping his cheek.  
  
Where he could hear her whispering his name, now, against his lips, before kissing him again.  
  
Riku’s arms curled down around her and picked her up, and she let him.  
  
He held her too tightly, but she just waited it out, letting him squeeze out the intensity, and she gently stroked his hair. “You won’t hurt me, Riku,” she said, very softly, but he _felt_ it in his chest. He felt it _from her._ “I trust you, honey.”  
  
Riku had to take several deep breaths, but he reluctantly nodded, holding his breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay.” He watched her, and then pulled her closer, kissing her forehead. “No matter what, if I hurt you, _stop_ me. In any way you can.” He hadn’t ever felt so afraid before—so afraid of _himself._ He at least knew Sora could kick his ass, when push came to shove, but Asami…  
  
“I might surprise you, handsome.”  
  
That _almost_ made him smile, though his stomach was turning.  
  
They split, and Riku told her he needed time—time to focus, and center himself, and, really, to talk himself in to _actually_ attacking her.  
  
He told himself that he had to try, because their enemies wouldn’t stop at _one good hit._ They’d never stop—they’d kill her, if they had the chance.  
  
And Riku couldn’t let them _have_ that chance.  
  
Riku needed to make sure she could endure, _no matter what._  
  
So after several slow, deep breaths, he summoned Braveheart.  
  
He heard Asami call for her Keyblade.  
  
He opened his eyes, and he decided he would use the same strength he’d used against Leon and Cloud—restrained, but expecting her to hold her own.  
  
He could adjust from there.  
  
After all, Leon had admitted he never used his full strength against her, and she hadn’t turned her own strength to its full potential against Leon, either.  
  
He threw the first strike, moving fast, and she surprised him with a well-timed block, and he saw that her eyes had changed—there was a seriousness and focus he hadn’t seen, yet.  
  
She used a strategy Leon had tried against her—she trapped Riku’s weapon between two of the iron rods on hers, but against Riku, she began to twist her Keyblade, turning his grip uncomfortably, and he knew if he let her, she could push him to drop the blade.  
  
He couldn’t grab it with his other hand—it wouldn’t help very much, the way she’d reacted—so he threw a lightning spell at her, instead.  
  
She seemed to sense it—likely their connection—and she cast a wind spell that threw her to safety, even if she rolled and skidded a little.  
  
Riku decided Leon might actually have a fight on his hands if Asami _actually_ put up a fight.  
  
She was watching him, and there was that same look in her eyes—fierce determination, and a focus that made himself and Mickey look childish.  
  
She flung herself at him, dashing past him, not close enough to strike the first two times, and then she caught him in the back, though it was a near-miss— _he_ sensed _her,_ too.  
  
He swung to face her and knocked her back, but she didn’t even _slip._ She skidded, but stood her ground, keeping her feet, and then she tried again.  
  
He expected her to try dashing past him again—she was taking a measure of him, clearly—but then, he saw the ice on the ground.  
  
He turned toward it, expecting her to slide, but she threw him with a wind spell and followed after him, to catch him off guard.  
  
Riku blocked her again.  
  
She was intelligent in battle—testing strategies, reading him, using what she already knew. And she probably knew too much, with their bond, but there was little they could do about that, in truth.  
  
But he was testing her.  
  
They watched each other for long moments, here, just trying to adjust to the strange ability to read each other, taking a moment to plan again, around everything that had happened so far.  
  
“Neither of you should be holding back,” Leon called, and it jolted both of them out of the moment.  
  
Riku glanced at the older man, took a deep breath, and then went again, and she didn’t catch up quickly enough—she took a hard strike on the arm and hissed, but she didn’t even lose enough focus to have her Keyblade waver.  
  
It was a back and forth—each taking a measure of the other, trying to see _around_ the instinctive, powerful bond that seemed to let them read each other.  
  
Riku seemed to have the better focus at managing to pay attention to her fighting strategies and her strengths, and he knew when to dodge, because her magic was _powerful._ Her Keyblade seemed to enhance it tremendously—she froze him to the ground, once, and Riku blocked a _much_ harder hit than he expected. It left his fingers aching where he held his Keyblade.  
  
But Asami seemed to have the better emotional _depth_ in reading him, and she could seem to know where he was coming from, even if he was moving too fast to see.  
  
Indeed, the biggest surprise Riku got was to jump behind her, only to find her facing him, and she struck him hard enough to throw him right on his ass, Keyblade inches from his hand, because he was so _astonished._  
  
She backed away after the hit, looking shocked, and Riku could suddenly see that her arm had already turned a deep, rich purple from the bruise spreading from his hit. He blinked up at her, but she was suddenly _there,_ Keyblade gone, running her hand over his chest, “I hit you awfully hard,” she gasped.  
  
Riku was so surprised that her focus and intensity had just _gone_ like that, but he didn’t flinch—she hadn’t hit him _that_ hard. It was more surprise that had knocked him down, than the power of her _hit._ “I’m fine, Asami,” he soothed, but he reached for her. “I hit you a lot harder.”  
  
“I’ve had worse,” she murmured. “Even Cloud didn’t knock you down. What did I do?”  
  
“You surprised me,” he said, and he could tell she was still worried about _him,_ and not her horribly-purple arm. “I think…I think it’s this…connection. You sensed what I was doing.” He took her hand, and she stilled. “I’m alright. You hit hard, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” He reached up, stroking her cheek. “We need to take care of your arm.” He was trying to ground her, to get her attention, to pull her to the _here_ and _now_ and remind her that _she’d_ taken damage, too. She needed to stop worrying about _him,_ even if he knew that couldn’t be an easy change to make, at this moment.  
  
She hesitated, at last, seeming to have finally heard him. She was, however, watching him, and Riku understood—he’d had that horrible panic in his chest when he’d dreamed she was taken, after all. So he gave her the time to calm, and settle, and she finally nodded. “Okay. Should we call it quits, for now, then?”  
  
“I think so.” Riku got to his feet, and then he pulled her up, and Riku looked at the bruise spreading up around the top of her arm. “You did better than I’d expected,” he told her, honestly.  
  
“Well, when push comes to shove, I’ll give my all—and that still wasn’t it,” she said, and she grunted when Riku carefully traced his finger along her bruise. It curled around her bicep, up to her shoulder. “But I had to try, to…to let you test me. It was hard to focus.”  
  
Riku let himself laugh, because he _agreed,_ more than agreed. “You did a good job.” That was an understatement, honestly, but it was as close as he could get, without going over _everything_ she’d done right.  
  
“Mm,” she hummed, but Leon and Aerith were approaching. “You, uh, have the energy for a spell for my arm? I think I have more than enough to cast one on Riku, but…I trust your healing spells more than mine, and he hits hard.”  
  
“I think you hit harder than you think,” Leon said, and he looked surprised, and…proud. “I think you could take me down, if you tried.” There was something under those tones, however—not jealousy, but perhaps something akin to _worry,_ because… _why didn’t she use that power all the time?_  
  
She cut off his train of thought with a simple, but firm, “You and I know we won’t find out.” Aerith was already holding Asami’s elbow, however, pulling it gently toward her. “Smarts a bit,” she admitted, grimacing.  
  
“He didn’t hold back as much as I thought he would,” Aerith said, softly. “You’ll still be bruised tomorrow, but it’ll be better than it is.” She took another moment to look at the bruise, and then told Asami to take off the jacket. When that was done, she also pushed up the sleeve of the t-shirt, and she saw the bruise spreading over to her shoulder blade. “You should heal her again tomorrow, Riku,” Aerith advised.  
  
“I will,” he said, instantly, because he’d do it _happily._ His stomach was actually turning, a bit, once he saw how hard he’d hit her, and he would do _anything_ to work on rectifying that.  
  
Asami relaxed after the spell had been cast, and then turned to Riku. “Really, are you in pain? I’ll heal you.”  
  
But Riku shook his head. “I’m fine, Asami. I promise.” He helped her get the jacket back on, and pulled her closer. “How are you feeling?” Of course it hadn’t gone over his head that she was just _ignoring_ her own well-being, urgently checking him, because she _needed_ to do so, but Riku wanted to remind her— _she mattered, too._  
  
“I’m alright, honey,” she said, when she could tell that it wasn’t just a little bit of worry about her, that he was feeling _guilty._ She curled her fingers around his wrist, standing on her toes, kissing his cheek, trying to soothe him. “I’m alright. I’ll be sore, but I’ve taken worse hits. I’m fine.”  
  
Riku knew she could read him, and part of him appreciated that—but there was a lot of him that was _afraid_ of her seeing too far in to his head, when he was feeling nauseated, remembering all the terrible things he’d done, but he was also…  
  
He was _grateful,_ because she didn’t seem to mind—she was trying to _help_ him.  
  
He curled both his arms around her and lifted her off the ground, dipping his head to kiss her forehead, then her lips, just holding her for a moment. “Thank you,” he whispered.  
  
She nodded, kissing his temple before he put her down, and though she was definitely _sore,_ she knew she could still fight.  
  
Riku hadn’t _truly_ harmed her.  
  
They spoke on the way back—Leon and Riku did most of the fighting, mostly because Riku didn’t want Asami to take another hit—about training, and the Heartless. Riku told them to keep a lookout for them to show up in greater numbers—that it was clear things weren’t getting any better.  
  
Aerith cast a second healing spell when they arrived in town, and they parted ways.  
  
The bruise was still there, but fading, when they arrived home, and Riku offered to cook.  
  
Asami was tired enough to let him.  
  
Before that, however, he made an ice pack, took off his belt, and strapped the thing around her shoulders, just to pin the ice in place. “Too tight? Or too cold?”  
  
Asami hummed, “It’s alright. I used to take ice baths, after long practices,” she murmured, sounding too sleepy to stay awake.  
  
It made Riku want to just gather her up in his arms and hold her until she fell asleep.  
  
But she needed to eat.  
  
“I can handle this, until you’re done cooking,” she assured him, and that sleepy look on her face…  
  
Riku leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow, lingering against her lips, and she hummed at him again, kissing him back, not able to move her arms for the belt, but she still leaned in to him, standing on her toes, fitting her mouth to his, seeming much more intent upon his kiss when she was too tired to muffle her desire.  
  
But Riku knew she needed to eat, and go to sleep, so he finally broke away, kissing her forehead, and then letting out a little sigh.  
  
She let him go, reluctantly, but she watched him for a time, until he was still. She leaned in to his back when he stopped moving around, because she couldn’t hold him, but this was the closest thing she had. She hummed, a little, short, broken melodies that didn’t match each other, but her voice was so soft that sometimes, he couldn’t hear it. He didn’t really recognize any of it, but…  
  
He really liked her voice.  
  
He liked the way she was leaned in to him, the way she fit against him, even from behind—she was warm and soft, but so much stronger than he had imagined.  
  
He liked feeling her weight falling on him, because it meant she knew she could rely on him.  
  
He _loved_ how natural it felt, in her home, in her arms, _cooking_ for her.  
  
Nothing extravagant—a soup, and they were reheating the bread—but this felt like _home._ It felt safe, and reliable.  
  
It felt sane.  
  
When it was done, he spooned out a portion for her, and told her to sit—he’d take care of everything.  
  
She laid her head on the table while she waited on him.  
  
She was _exhausted._  
  
The sleepless night and the training were catching up, and she felt it in every cell.  
  
Her arm was throbbing with every heartbeat, despite the ice—or maybe _because_ of it, for all her tired mind could think.  
  
But Riku put the soup down, and bread, and water, and he dipped his head, kissing her crown. “Think you can eat?”  
  
“I know I have to,” she murmured, feeling that kiss spread from her head to her toes. “I’ll eat what I can.”  
  
Riku seemed to _know,_ and he dipped his head, kissing her cheek. “Okay.”  
  
He released the belt, catching the ice pack, noting that her arm was red from the cold, and yet the bruise was darkening, he was certain. He took the time to cast a healing spell, just once more for tonight, to try to give her _some_ kind of relief.  
  
She rolled her shoulders and carefully stretched, wincing at the sting and soreness, but she had endured far worse, so, at last, she slid the food back toward her on the table, and dipped her head to breathe in the smell of it.  
  
Riku definitely wasn’t the better cook of the two of them—likely his extended time spent away from home—but when she was exhausted, and growing _cold_ as her body tried to shut her down, and prepare for sleep, it was _perfect._  
  
It made her want to cuddle with Riku, at least for a little while.  
  
Maybe after her shower. She was certain she smelled terrible, especially with her nightmare last night, and all her efforts today…  
  
Before she knew it (she was both tired _and_ distracted, which was, often, a dangerous situation, but she felt safe with Riku, and she had let herself slip), Asami managed to finish the soup, so far as to drink the broth right from the bowl. She was just _too tired_ to be patient about spooning it out or sopping it up with the bread. But the bread, too, disappeared, and Asami could _feel_ her eyes trying to close. She rubbed her arm, groaning at the rush of pain, and then rubbed her face—and when that pulled her arm, she groaned again. “I need a shower—but I’m gonna rush,” she said, not quite slurring, but Riku’s eyebrow shot up. “Hoping the hot water will loosen this up a bit,” she murmured, gesturing at the purple bruising spreading across her skin, and she got to her feet, not quite steady, and Riku caught her.  
  
“You don’t have to,” he said, when he realized how utterly _exhausted_ she was, how much trouble she was having with just staying _awake,_ with even _being steady on her feet._ “You can go right to bed,” he said, a little too fast, because…what if she fell? He’d never forgive himself for leaving her alone, as tired as she was.  
  
But Asami shook her head. “I’m fine, babe,” she murmured. “I’ll be out in a little while. I’ll even leave the door open, if you want to be sure you can hear me.”  
  
Riku didn’t like the idea—he almost wanted to tell her to just stay in her underwear and let him stay with her, but…  
  
But she was an independent woman, who could take care of herself, and denying her the space to herself—which they had _barely_ had, since they met—felt wrong. “Just…please be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt because I wore you out,” he said, and he was trying to joke, but he really _was_ worried, _especially_ after he’d bruised her _so_ badly.  
  
“I’m okay, honey,” she soothed, and she stood on her toes, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “I’ll be out in a bit. Promise.”  
  
Knowing he was worried was just enough to keep her awake, and she disappeared in to the shower, rushing through the process, just because she really _did_ want to get out, and get in to her most comfortable clothing, and cuddle her Riku, and _sleep._  
  
While he waited, Riku ran water and washed the dishes, just enough that he wouldn’t disturb her shower, and focusing on cleaning up helped him not miss her so much.  
  
He threw the ice pack in the freezer, took off his boots and jacket and put them in the space he’d become accustomed to using, now that he’d been with her for a while, and even hung up her jacket, putting her boots beside his.  
  
He turned down the bed for her, turning on the beside lamp, and then returned and put up the dishes.  
  
When she finished, he gave her enough time to get dressed and in the bed, and he checked on her, finding her already sitting on the bed, trying very, very hard to hold her eyes open.  
  
He bent, kissing her forehead, her nose, and then her lips, and he could taste the toothpaste in her mouth, and he could _feel_ how much she wanted him to just skip the shower and join her. “Are you alright, Asami?”  
  
She had to take a moment to process the question, and then nodded, hummed, and nodded again.  
  
Riku thought she reminded him a little bit of a too-tipsy person who wasn’t putting on an act about their sobriety.  
  
“Will you hurry?” The question might have sounded impatient, if Riku hadn’t known how much she wanted him there, how much she _needed_ him. “I want to cuddle for a bit. Please?”  
  
She sounded so…  
  
_young._  
  
Trusting, wanting and needing him, relying on him.  
  
Riku kissed her again, gentle as he could. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”  
  
He took his shower quickly, not caring _nearly_ as much as he could, because he wanted to go back to Asami. His heart ached _terribly,_ having to walk away from her, but he also wanted to be _clean_ for her, while he could. He wanted to give her all the comfort of smelling him, not sweaty, but clean and comforting and _knowing_ that his priority was her, that she was the thing he was focused on, not training, not his mission—this moment was just _them._ It was, however, harder not to think of her when he wasn’t focused on doing something else, and a shower was just _normal,_ and that meant that his mind wandered too many times, delaying him as he wondered at how trusting she was, how much warmer she had grown toward him, how willingly she _wanted_ to be with him.  
  
But by the time he finished (which didn’t take as long as he _felt_ it did), Asami had already succumbed to sleep.  
  
She had pulled the blankets halfway up her torso, sitting up against the headboard, breathing shallowly in sleep, the light still on at her side.  
  
He wasn’t surprised—he’d pushed her hard today, and her sleepless night on top of it…  
  
But he was disappointed, mostly in himself, because he really _had_ wanted to indulge in just…lying with her, holding her, even if it was just for one minute.  
  
He was afraid to move her, but she needed to _sleep,_ not sitting up, but comfortably covered in her bed, securely snuggled under all her covers, and perhaps Riku’s arm, if it worked out.  
  
He carefully tugged her, pulling her until he caught her head with one hand, easing her down to the pillow, and he pulled the blankets up over her shoulders.  
  
She was so tired that it didn’t even earn a twitch or noise—indeed, by the time Riku had gone to his side of the bed, she had curled up in a little ball, her bad shoulder toward the ceiling, one arm curled beneath her chin, the other crossed down, edging under her pillow.  
  
Riku almost wanted to laugh, for how cute she looked, but instead, he only reached across her with all care, and turned off the lamp, and then settled in to the bed.  
  
He was terrified that he might accidentally hurt her, if he wrapped around her the wrong way, and though it was a fight to even _begin_ to sleep without her in his arms, Riku faced away from her.  
  
When he finally let himself press his back to hers, to assure himself that she was _there,_ safe and sound, _asleep,_ and comfortable enough with him—trusting him so clearly—that he began to drift toward sleep.  
  
He felt her begin to relax against him, heard her breathing smoothen and deepen, and he felt her back swelling against his as she breathed, and Riku used _that_ to pull him away from the fear and worry about her.  
  
She was strong—strong enough to endure anything he threw at her today, _more_ than he’d thrown at her. She was safe, and she clearly _felt_ safe, to fall asleep, fully expecting him to sleep with her tonight.  
  
It reassured him.  
  
The last thing he knew was her soft, low voice, murmuring his name in sleep—barely coherent, but so _warm_ that it called him down to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you lot liked it! Again, it definitely turned in to some filler (honestly, probably fifty percent, but...I hate to smoosh this up with the next chapter, because that's already long, and it's an utterly different tone, and the one before it would have seemed _too_ long if I hadn't cut it where I did) but hopefully it's still decent enough.
> 
> Now, mentioning that the next chapter is a different tone—
> 
> It's smut. I'll say it outright, because I know some people don't like to read that, and that's entirely up to you—there's not a lot in the chapter that would, _technically,_ be important to the plot, so it's decidedly avoidable. The chapter that follows it basically informs you of anything you'd need to know—the smut is more for the bond and emotional connection and progression of their relationship, and that can be implied without it, but they went there and I liked how it turned out.
> 
> But that said, it does need a bit of fine-tuning, and I'm going to give myself a bit of time away from it after the writing of it, to sort of step down, go back, find the things that need to be fixed, and make it as good as I can—with some luck, for the symbolism of it, I intend to publish it on Valentine's Day! (Or Single's Awareness Day, whatever you want to call it, it's a holiday that you can choose to celebrate or not, it's all in your feelings on it.) So, I'll see you then, so long as work hasn't killed me.
> 
> I'm also commissioning a friend to draw Asami's Keyblades, because I have to admit—having an actual picture in my head will make writing combat with her a lot _easier_ in the long run. I also need to figure out how Riku's will change, once they exchange their key chains... (I'm sorry, his is a frigging car key, and it went from being something so intensely symbolic of who he was and how far he'd come to a blank slate that literally looks like the Fenrir Keyblade from KHII, sans bandages, with the gaps filled in, and a different handle. I'm mad about that, too.)
> 
> But I haven't given her a timeline, as she's a busy woman, so I'll let you guys see them when I can!
> 
> I also do have a playlist for these two—if you lot would like to see it, I'll share it next chapter!
> 
> So, that's a preview of everything I've been doing and what's to come—and that, on top of work, and life...I've not been able to write as much as I want on this.
> 
> The upside is that my disappointment in the content for Riku seems to be fueling the story, and I do want to see it out!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed that, and thank you for reading!
> 
> Let me know what you think—I really do appreciate the comments (even if you want to tell me it's too soon for smut, because you've a right to think that!) and just knowing that people are enjoying the story.
> 
> Thanks!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own _Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy,_ or **ANY** _Disney_ property. I make no profit off this. I'm just writing for fun.
> 
> Hi, guys! So, I know I'm rather late on the update (it's one AM on the fifteenth here) but I worked eleven hours today, and I should have had it done yesterday, but...life is hectic.
> 
> So, that being said, the chapter added over a thousand words with rewrites I did, so...it's very long.
> 
> It is also, as I said in the previous chapter, probably about ninety percent smut. You aren't obligated to read it if it's not to your taste—the next chapter will eventually be out, and this has very little in it that would be considered necessary, beyond strengthening their connection.
> 
> But, as I desperately need sleep, I'll send you off with a link to [the playlist for this story: Balance](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Wmv227ElLdFAQwaDIyyr8?si=yKA92NEfRMOBprnStz7tvw) This will be updated if I happen to find any other songs to go with it, and I may do some rearranging, but shuffle doesn't matter so much. It's a very long playlist, but most of the songs are relating to one character apiece, and their stories and feelings.
> 
> That said, off you go! Enjoy!

He woke up with Asami wrapped around him.  
  
She was littler than him, and her arm was at an angle where she had it wrapped around him. Her body was pressed in to his back, and he could feel her nose almost digging in to his spine.  
  
He reached for her hand, squeezing it, afraid to turn over—he didn’t want to crush her. “Asami?”  
  
Surely she couldn’t be asleep, the way she was almost _smooshed_ against his back.  
  
But he had to call her name again, and she gasped, and then groaned. “Riku?” His name was garbled—her voice was at the edge of a growl, and it was half-interrupted with a yawn. “Fuck. I slept on my arm,” she murmured against his back, and she pulled her arm from around him, rolling on her back.  
  
He turned over so that he could see her, and he nudged the covers down, pulling at her arm. “The bruising isn’t as bad,” he murmured, and she hummed. “Still sore?” He cast a healing spell, because he _needed_ to, just to reassure himself that she was alright—that he wasn’t leaving her unattended.  
  
“It will be for a day or two,” she murmured, but she was watching him. She smiled, kissing him, once, softly, “Thank you.” She didn’t think much could be done at this point, but it was incredibly _sweet_ that he was still trying to take care of her. She reached for him, and he let her pull him down in to a kiss.  
  
Even after that first, electric kiss they’d shared, Riku kept feeling that intense, tingly feeling, every time she kissed him.  
  
Especially like this—a slow, lazy kiss, one she pulled him back to, nibbling at his lip.  
  
It made him press closer to her, because he _had_ to.  
  
She was soft and warm and she fit against him too well—he could brace himself on his arm and feel her against him, _beneath_ him, and the lingering feeling of sleepiness had too much of a hold for him to try to tell her they shouldn’t.  
  
Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she hummed in his mouth, and then he felt one of her hands drop, tracing his shoulder, down to his chest, sliding down his stomach, and he shuddered.  
  
Then, it was beneath his shirt, pulling it up, and Riku broke the kiss, “Asami—”  
  
“I want to check where I hit you,” she murmured, and then, much too quickly, she had him on his back, her hands sliding the shirt out of the way.  
  
She was almost sitting up—her hip was pressed in to his, but she was leaning in to him, too. “You didn’t let me heal you,” she murmured, and even though Riku knew she actually _meant_ that she wanted to check where she’d hit, his head was spinning so fast that he couldn’t nail things down, tell himself that she _wasn’t_ going to do more than that.  
  
She ran her hands along his back and he arched, and she pulled the shirt up, one hand pinning it against his collar. “I bruised you, hon,” she murmured, and her fingers skimmed across his skin—right where she hit him.  
  
But it didn’t _hurt._ “It doesn’t hurt,” he managed to get out, though that took a great deal more effort than he’d admit.  
  
His mind was going entirely too many other places.  
  
“Let me. For my own peace of mind,” she murmured, and Riku _forced_ himself not to do what he wanted—he wanted to pull her down, kiss her breathless. He wanted her to keep touching him, because it didn’t _hurt._ He wanted to slip his hand beneath her shirt, hold on to her, feel her in his grasp, he wanted—  
  
He wanted _so many things._  
  
But she cast a healing spell, and then her hand slid over his chest again, and she dipped back down, kissing him again, and Riku knew something _shattered_ inside him.  
  
He wrapped his arm around her, nudging his hand beneath her shirt, just to feel her skin. He pulled her in to him, kissing her possessively, but she stayed above him, pulling away to gasp, then leaning back in, shivering as his fingers drew circles against her skin. “Riku,” she breathed, and she dipped her head, returning his affection from before—she kissed along his neck, and Riku let out a gasp when she nipped at his pulse.  
  
“Fuck, Asami—” But her lips were back to his, and Riku knew he shouldn’t be doing this—not when he had to leave soon, when he might not make it back, but…  
  
But maybe that was enough reason to give in.  
  
Maybe the fact that he could barely function without her in his arms was enough reason.  
  
Maybe the fact that many of his dreams had faded from nightmares to dreams of her, not just what he already had with her, but things he _wanted_ with her was _enough._  
  
Maybe the fact that he _wanted_ her was enough, that he wanted to have her, in every way, was _more than enough reason._  
  
Maybe the fact that he _wanted_ her, not just now, but he wanted to _come home_ to her, was _all the reason he needed._  
  
He gave in—he kissed her again, and again, until she let him push at her, turn her on to her back, pressing her in to her pillow, and he _adored_ the noises she was making, the way her skin jumped under his touch as his hand slipped from her side to her belly, feeling her flex beneath him.  
  
“Riku,” she breathed, but she was kissing him again.  
  
She was so _warm,_ and soft, and _perfect,_ and he didn’t want to let this go.  
  
But then her hand pressed against his chest, pushing him back, and she met his eyes. “Riku, wait,” she murmured, and she stroked her fingers through his hair gently. “Do you want this? You, not this…this _bond._ _You,_ do _you_ want this?”  
  
Riku almost couldn’t _think_ through the feelings.  
  
He knew the answer, he wanted to tell her _everything_ that had run through his head, that he didn’t just want _this,_ he wanted her. He wasn’t just in this for _sex._ He wanted _Asami._  
  
But the feelings that had broken through the dam he built in his head were _overwhelming,_ on top of _hers._ Her want, her _excitement,_ the way she _trusted_ him. Her heart was racing as fast as his, and her pupils were blown wide, her lips swollen and darker from their kisses.  
  
It made him want her _more._ It wasn’t just the strange bond—though that was a lot of it.  
  
Riku already admired her deeply, despite barely knowing her.  
  
He admired her strength, and intelligence, her willingness to persevere. He appreciated how intensely she seemed to care for those she loved—how considerate she was, to everyone. She was a giving sort, he could tell.  
  
She was so strong, not just physically, but in her _heart,_ and that meant even more to him.  
  
And she was _gorgeous._  
  
He leaned back in to kiss her again, and she let out a gasp, and her fingers clutched his hair for a moment. “I want you,” he corrected, trying to think, trying to put it to words. “Not just _this._ I want _you,_ Asami,” he breathed, and he kissed her again, and it was such an intense feeling that Asami let out a moan in his mouth, pulling at his hair where she was gripping him. “I want this, but I want _you,_ more,” he added, not quite at his most thoughtful, right then.  
  
She hummed against his lips, kissing him back, before she parted again, her breath puffing against his lips. She was smiling— _happy,_ even—he could see it in her eyes. “Good,” she murmured, and she nibbled his lip, making him release a half-groaned breath. “You can have me.”  
  
There was something… _possessive_ in that. Something that tickled Riku’s nape—something that hissed, _You’re all mine,_ in the back of his head.  
  
She _was_ his.  
  
And maybe they shouldn’t be doing this so fast, but Riku would be _damned_ if it didn’t feel right, especially when she responded to his hungry kiss with as much fire as he, himself had.  
  
She raked her fingers through the hair at his nape and he growled softly, but then he pulled back to lay kisses across her jaw, down her neck, going back to the place he’d found not so long ago, nibbling her skin, then leaving another bite behind that made her moan, and this time, her hips rocked in to his where he rested against her.  
  
“Riku—” He sucked the little bite mark and she moaned again, and Riku wondered if he could make her forget how to speak.  
  
“Fuck,” she murmured, grabbing him, pulling him back to her mouth, kissing him so intensely that _Riku_ forgot how to speak, just for a moment. “You’ve done this before?”  
  
It took his addled brain several seconds to register that _that_ was supposed to be a question, even if it sounded more like a statement, at first. He shook his head, “Haven’t had the time,” he murmured, leaning back in to her lips, using his fingers to trace a line up her belly, pushing her shirt up as he went.  
  
She stopped, blinking at him, and then she laughed. “You know, honestly, I’d thought…” She paused, and then she leaned in, kissing him. “I figured you had women all over you. You’re so handsome,” she murmured, and there was another kiss. “It’s alright, honey. You can learn on the fly.” Another kiss, and another, like she couldn’t seem to let go of him.  
  
He felt an itch at the back of his brain, suddenly, and he pulled back a little, but his hand settled on her belly, the tips of his fingers slowly skimming across her skin, just a little. “I take it you have?”  
  
She hesitated, and he could see it, but she laid her hand over his. “A few times. Part of the story I haven’t told you.” She paused, and she tilted her head. Riku could see her carefully pulling herself back, prepared for him to be upset about her answer, preparing to let this go. “Does that change your mind? Would you rather me tell you everything, first?” She gave a beat, and then continued, “There are things you probably… _should_ know, first.”  
  
Riku thought about that, debating.  
  
It wasn’t so much that he…  
  
It wasn’t a feeling of _betrayal,_ which was what he thought, when she first said it.  
  
It was more a feeling of… _jealousy._  
  
Jealousy that he wasn’t her first.  
  
Jealousy that _someone else_ had gotten to have her—that _someone else_ had probably _loved_ her in more ways than one.  
  
Jealousy that she’d wanted someone else.  
  
Which was utterly illogical—they hadn’t met until a few _days_ ago, and they’d been together every moment since then, so it clearly wasn’t recent.  
  
But the feeling was still there.  
  
But so was that _possessiveness_ that he’d thought he’d grown past, so was a feeling of _superiority,_ because…Riku _belonged_ with her.  
  
Riku was, surely, the only one who could _truly_ satisfy her. The only one who could make her moan, from just a little bite, from a _kiss._  
  
Who could earn her trust, when they barely knew each other.  
  
Who could win her over, so that she _wanted_ him, in her life, in her _bed._  
  
“Then…” He hesitated, feeling the strange, opposed feelings clash—the want of her, against the want to know more, and a feeling of _insecurity_ against a confidence in _them—_ that they were _supposed_ to be together, they were supposed to _feel_ this way. But there was something so _powerful_ in the feelings, something almost _animal_ and _instinctive_ that told him just to _stop thinking,_ because he had her to himself, right here and now.  
  
He had the chance to make sure she’d never want anyone or _anything_ more than him and what he could give her.  
  
And he wanted to give her _everything_ —all of himself, everything he had, he wanted to give her his very best.  
  
So he leaned in, and he kissed her again, and the kiss alone left her moaning and clutching him, one hand in his hair, the other in his shirt, and he felt her squirming under him.  
  
She had to pull his hair to break the kiss, breathless and gasping, and she pressed her hand to his chest. “Hold it, hold on,” she gasped, and she waited, just to catch her breath a little. “I’m all in—I _want_ you, Riku,” she started, and she stroked his hair, hoping he would calm down, just a little. “But I’ve got a condition or two, honey,” she said. “It’s important. Please.”  
  
Riku _did_ settle, almost instantly, because he _felt_ it through their bond, that there was a strange…  
  
There was a _fear,_ faint, but there. “Okay.”  
  
In fact, Riku moved back, because just _feeling_ her right there, under him, was making it hard to concentrate.  
  
She seemed surprised, and it took her a moment, but she rolled on to her side, looking at him, and she took one of his hands. “First—and I know this, I…I _feel_ it, but…I’m not…I’m not an object. I know you wouldn’t think of me that way, it’s just—” She cut herself off, and Riku felt a _jolt_ of panic, something _instinctive_ in her. “Most men don’t actually _know_ how to…pleasure a woman—they know the actual penetration part of it and figure that’s what’s going to feel best, and it’s…not necessarily that, for us.” She paused, and he could feel her trying to gather her thoughts, trying to sort herself out after that panic. “So if I say something, listen. Don’t just…go head-first and assume I’ll like it.” Riku could feel her calming herself down, especially as she spoke. “So…will you let me show you? It doesn’t seem like you need much—I think this…this _bond,_ I think we can… _sense_ each other, you knew about my neck, but…”  
  
Riku was surprised at the almost… _insecurity_ in her. She was so confident, always willing to try, to press forward, to just…do what she needed, it felt _strange_ to feel her wavering in the moment.  
  
He realized it was probable that his worst fears were true—that someone had probably hurt her, probably in the worst way.  
  
It made him want to protect her.  
  
But…he also knew she could protect herself.  
  
That was what she was doing, right now.  
  
So Riku nodded. “I want to learn,” he said, honestly, and he didn’t reach for her, even though instinct was _screaming_ to do so. “I’ll do whatever you tell me, Asami.”  
  
She watched him, and Riku saw her eyes flicker over his face, and then, something released in her, and she leaned in to him, kissing him, and it made him melt. He gently cradled her in his hand, and Asami let out a breath after she let him go. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me, Riku,” she said, softly, and her hand pressed to his chest. “I believe it.”  
  
He _felt_ the weight melting away, and he kissed her again, and again, softly, but passionately each time, and she _melted_ in to him. “Last thing,” she said, softly, “I’ve got a scar on my ribs. Don’t ask. I’ll explain later,” she said, and there was that little tremor, under all the other feelings, but she felt more _secure,_ now. “It doesn’t hurt.”  
  
He nodded, because it _did_ make him want to ask, to be told not to, but he knew he could wait.  
  
So he kissed her again, and again, until she pulled him back to the same position, his hips settled against hers, and she let out a muffled hum in his mouth when he pressed in to her. “Fuck, you’re going to feel good,” she whispered, and Riku grunted, not quite able to keep his hips from twitching against her.  
  
She laughed. “Take my shirt off,” she whispered, right in his ear, and Riku didn’t mind being told what to do—in this case, he was _more than willing_ to obey.  
  
She wore nothing under the shirt she slept in, and despite the rich bruise spreading over most of her arm, Riku memorized every inch of her.  
  
She was built like a dancer—lithe and strong, her belly flattened by what he knew had to be _years_ of training, building muscle, and—there was the scar.  
  
His eyes lingered on it, but he moved on, remembering her words.  
  
She was watching him watch her, and she was grinning, when he finally looked back at her face. “Like what you see?”  
  
Riku’s breathed “yes” was muffled by another of those intense, possessive kisses, and this time, his hand didn’t have to fight to feel her.  
  
His hand slid up her belly, tracing the lines of her muscles, feeling along her ribs, and she _flexed_ under his touch and Riku had _no_ doubt she could really hurt someone if she wanted.  
  
That was more of a turn on than he thought it’d be.  
  
She gasped in his mouth when his fingers skimmed over the edge of her breast, and then she whined. “Like this,” she insisted, and she took his hand, guiding it to her, and Riku’s breath stuttered when she dragged his thumb across her nipple, feeling it react to his touch. “Don’t be afraid you’ll hurt me,” she said, and Riku felt electricity race through his spine. “I’ll let you know.”  
  
He felt the weight of her in his palm, and he hesitated, but he squeezed, and she grinned, “The nipple is the best part. Like this,” she said, and she didn’t grab his hand again—she reached for _him,_ pulling his shirt back up, sliding her hand underneath, raking her finger over his, and he didn’t expect the little _tingle_ that shot through him.  
  
Mild, but she had _barely_ touched him.  
  
“It’s good to warm me up—but I like having my breasts played with,” she whispered, and Riku jolted again, surprised at how _open_ she was. “The biting thing isn’t _just_ for my neck, honey.”  
  
Riku almost growled.  
  
He tried different ways—squeezing and rolling her in his palms, running his thumbs over the tip of her nipple, and she helped him a few times, and when he caught on, she let out noises that made him want to _forget_ everything but her.  
  
She let out a moan when he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling gently, and _that_ was definitely the right way to do it, because her nails raked against his bicep, and she whispered his name after, her eyes half-lidded, her back arching. He kissed her, then down to her neck, leaving another soft bite there, but when his lips kissed down her collar, and one of his hands shifted lower on the bed, he _felt_ her heartbeat jump.  
  
His lips kissed between her breasts, leaving a trail up to the edge of her nipple, kissing around it, and she groaned his name, and he gave in to what _he_ wanted.  
  
He trailed his tongue over the taught, sensitized peak, and she jolted under him, and he felt her hand cup the back of his head. “Riku—”  
  
But she didn’t continue, because he pinched the tip of her right between his teeth, and she moaned, her hips bucking against him, and Riku couldn’t help starting to _rock_ against her.  
  
He pulled, a little, and then let her go to soothe the little bite with his tongue, and he felt her hand relax a bit, but then, he sucked, and she let out a high, pleased whimper of his name, clutching his hair, pressing him on to her breast.  
  
Riku wondered if he could make her beg.  
  
But then her hands were pulling at his shirt, and she whined his name, “Let me take this off you.”  
  
Riku obeyed her, and once that was done, she leaned in to kiss him again, and her hands wandered over him, trailing along the edges of his muscles, tracing and memorizing his shape, and she breathed his name against his lips in a way that made him buck against her, and she whined softly. “Riku,” she murmured, and Riku _loved_ the way she said his name, the way she sounded so…  
  
So _needy._  
  
He loved that she sounded like she _needed_ him.  
  
He slipped his hand down her belly, feeling her flex under his touch, and he curled his fingers in to the band of her shorts, tugging gently, when he couldn’t find the words—or the will to pull away from her kiss.  
  
She giggled against his mouth. “Please.”  
  
Riku knew what he was doing—in theory, at least.  
  
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t nervous.  
  
But _her_ feelings coming through the bond were _not._ She trusted him, she was _comfortable_ with him. And she’d told him she’d teach him.  
  
So he slid the shorts off, and he didn’t realize he was blushing until Asami burst in to giggles, and pulled him back to her, kissing him, a warmth in the touch of her lips. “It’s okay, honey.” She kissed him again, and it began to slip his mind, how embarrassed he was, because this _felt right._ “What do you want to do?”  
  
This, he sort of knew…and sort of didn’t.  
  
But he knew what _she_ wanted. She was aching already, and Riku wanted to help her out. “You told me you would teach me,” he invited.  
  
She looked surprised, and then she grinned at him, pulling him close, kissing him, and there was something in this kiss that made his toes curl.  
  
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, and the sound made him feel like she punched him—there was something so ridiculously _sexy_ in how comfortable she was in her own skin, in how _open_ she was about this. She nudged him back a little, and then scooted toward the top of the bed, leaning back, and she gestured for him to follow.  
  
He obeyed, but then he _felt_ himself blush, because she just settled herself in, spreading her legs, adjusting until she was comfortable, and Riku turned red all the way to his ears.  
  
She was so ridiculously at ease, baring herself to him, and it made him want her even _more,_ because she was so _confident_ in this, in _trusting_ him.  
  
She pulled him in for a kiss, and Riku couldn’t help gripping her hip a little too tightly, clutching at her hair, and Asami giggled, dipping her head, pressing a kiss to his collarbones. “Don’t worry, babe,” she murmured, and she kissed up his neck, her hand sliding down to find his. “I very much intend to let you figure out what you like doing to me,” she said, “I like learning my partner—I want to figure out what I can do to you, to get you going. I’d make the bet that you’ll _love_ figuring out what I like—you’ll want to learn how to drive me mad.”  
  
Riku swallowed, and a part of him just wanted to kiss her, just to shut her up, because she was _right,_ he wanted to memorize _every inch_ of her body—he wanted to figure out what she liked best, he wanted to memorize every pleased noise she made, he wanted to know just how _desperate_ he could make her, if she let him.  
  
It didn’t help that she was _encouraging_ that kind of behavior, that she seemed to _like_ the idea of him having that sort of control over her—  
  
“Fuck, Asami—” He kissed her, hungrily, and she gave in, kissing him back—she could give as good as she got.  
  
He let go of her hip, afraid of bruising her, running his hand along her thigh, down to the inside, and she shivered as his fingers trailed up the sensitive flesh, toward the ache she’d felt since the _moment_ he let his weight down on her.  
  
“Riku—” His name was a whine, and she bit his lip, and caught his hand, squeezing. “Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have you to myself for an entire night—” and she kissed him again, and Riku almost couldn’t _stand_ it, how hungry she was. Her kiss was almost _greedy,_ in how desperately she wanted him. “No deadline, no end of the word bullshit—just us,” she murmured, and she bit his lip again, “and all the time we wanted.”  
  
Riku broke her grip to grab at her hair, pulling her in to him, hungry and _desperate_ in the worst sort of way, and he kissed her until they were _both_ at the edge of their sanity.  
  
At last, she broke apart, laying kisses over his shoulder, panting, and she took his hand, lacing their fingers, squeezing him as she breathed.  
  
“If I wasn’t so sure you’re big enough for me to _need_ foreplay, I’d just fuck you,” she breathed.  
  
Riku couldn’t help it—his hips twitched, just a little, despite her not even being in his lap.  
  
But she took his hand, pulling it to her lips, and she kissed his palm. “Patience, honey,” she soothed, but there was a wicked smile on her lips. “I’ll return the favor, I promise.” He felt a wicked rush of heat curl straight through his stomach for those words, making him shift restlessly. She, however, adjusted a little, again, spreading her legs a bit wider, flattening one to the bed so that he didn’t have to reach _around_ it, the other pulled toward her chest. She lowered his hand, leaning back a little, and she jumped, despite the fact that she was the one who did it, when his fingers slid along her slit.  
  
She was already _slick,_ and Riku swallowed a moan when he felt how _hot_ she was. She slid his fingers along her sex, until they were slick, and then pulled his fingers up, until she jolted, and the whimpered softly. “That’s my clit,” she murmured, and she let go of him, letting him _feel_ her, and her legs twitched as he gently traced the little bud, feeling her arch at his touch. “It’s sensitive—like your dick,” she whispered, and she let out a whimper when he pressed the tip of his finger to it, rocking the nub, and he felt her attention lapse. She had to grab his wrist, just to stop him. “You can get me off with that—one of the quickest ways to make me climax, but it’s a bit of a cheat,” she said.  
  
Riku wanted to see what she’d do if he actually _experimented,_ if he got to try to see what _more_ she would do, if he devoted his attention to that particular part of her.  
  
He couldn’t help but bite his lip, just a little, thinking of it.  
  
She squeezed his wrist, pulling him back to the moment. “You can play with me later, babe,” she murmured, and Riku felt like she’d _punched_ him again, the way she said that, so _sultry_ and _sexy,_ a promise if he’d ever heard one, because she clearly _wanted_ him to explore her.  
  
But he reluctantly nodded, and she slid his fingers down, until he _felt_ the little gap. “Two fingers, to start,” she said, but she was flushed, now, and the words were breathy. “No nails—use this part of your fingers,” she murmured, running hers over the pads of his fingers, and Riku twisted his hand, gasping when he felt how _slick_ and _hot_ she was. She was soft, and he hesitated, feeling a little… _insecure,_ but she pulled him closer, kissing him gently. “I trust you, honey. I’ll tell you how I’m feeling.”  
  
It made him feel better, even though he’d known she wasn’t just going to sit there and take it if he was hurting her, but hearing her verbalize it—it reassured him.  
  
He slid his fingers deeper, and she let out a little sigh, using one of her hands to press her knee down, when she wanted to pull it up, to give him room. “Feel that rough spot? That’s sensitive, too—a ‘come hither’ motion is _very_ nice for that,” she breathed, and when Riku tried it, she gasped, and then let out a little whimper that dissolved in to a sigh.  
  
When he continued it, she leaned her head back, her mouth open, letting her eyes close, and Riku _relished_ that feeling, that she was just _enjoying_ it, not feeling like she needed to keep an eye on him, or teach him anything more—she just gave herself over to what _he_ was doing.  
  
It was ridiculous, how much that turned him on, especially when she began to let out soft, breathy moans, starting to move against him in little, involuntary motions.  
  
He paused, now and again, just to press deeper in to her, memorizing how ridiculously _perfect_ she felt, testing her reactions to different motions, and she just _let_ him, sinking down in the bed, giving him room, _trusting_ him.  
  
She felt _perfect,_ and he wanted to feel _more_ of her, he wanted—  
  
There was a part of him that wanted to just _fuck_ her until she forgot her own name—until she shattered and came undone and could only think of _him._  
  
But the rest of him was enjoying all of this too much—the way she was gasping his name, the way she swore when he added another finger, squirming, practically _fucking_ herself on his fingers, when she grew impatient, her thighs twitching in the pleasure, chasing the high and moaning his name, grateful and _demanding_ at the same time. “Fuck, Riku, I—” She gasped, and then whimpered, her nails raking his forearm. “I’m close, please—”  
  
There was something deep in him that _relished_ the way she was _begging_ him, needy and recklessly seeking the pleasure _he_ was giving her. He leaned in, pressing his fingers deeper in to her, stilling his hand, and he kissed her, hungry and demanding and _greedy_ for her attention and _approval,_ and when she kissed him back, breathless, squirming in to his hand, whimpering his name, Riku was certain he would lose his mind for how _intensely_ she was reacting. “Fuck, Riku—please, I—”  
  
But Riku silenced her with another kiss, using his free hand to press down on her hip, to keep her from fulfilling her need on her own. “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he promised, and Asami whined.  
  
He withdrew a fraction, twisting his hand a little, then pushed his fingers deeper in to her, and her body had stretched open with all his attention, letting him push close enough to press his thumb to her clit, and it took little more than a nudge before she cried his name, her thighs twitching, and she arched off the bed, gasping breathlessly.  
  
Riku _loved_ how she looked in that moment, the way she squirmed as he continued to carefully run his fingers over the spot she’d mentioned earlier, how _breathless_ she was, looking exhausted, and happy, and _perfect._ She looked like some sort of goddess, lying beneath him, and Riku only withdrew when he finally felt her nearly stop clenching around his fingers.  
  
She laid there for a long moment, gasping quietly, and Riku memorized it, because…  
  
This was _perfect._  
  
_She_ was perfect.  
  
But she sat up and grabbed him, kissing him passionately, intently, and her fingers curled in his pants, “Can I, babe?”  
  
Riku nodded.  
  
She fumbled with the belt—her eyes were still enormous, dilated from her orgasm, and her lips were swollen, and…  
  
Riku had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.  
  
She got the pants off him and had him bare shortly, and she pushed at his shoulders, telling him to sit back.  
  
She’d promised she’d return the favor, after all.  
  
So Riku obeyed her, and she put herself between his legs, and she kissed him. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like, honey.”  
  
But Riku knew she _wouldn’t,_ and she kissed him again, wrapping her fingers around him, and he bucked, and she giggled. “Calm, babe. I’m going to take care of you.”  
  
He knew she would.  
  
So he sat back, taking a deep breath when she started moving, but he _watched_ her, despite wanting to give in and close his eyes.  
  
She kissed him the whole time, using her hand in a way that made Riku have to _focus,_ just to hold back, because he _wanted_ to make this last, especially the way she was watching him, biting her lip.  
  
It turned him on endlessly, that she was actually _enjoying_ doing this to him.  
  
And then she was kissing him again, biting his lip, and Riku bucked, and then let out the barest hint of a whimper. “You’re lasting longer than I expected,” she murmured, softly, “the way you were reacting to start.”  
  
He wasn’t sure if he should be indignant or proud, but he threw his head back when she traced her thumb around his tip, and he held his breath, at the edge of breaking. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “You can let go.”  
  
It took every ounce of his willpower not to give in when she gave him permission, and he held his breath, and he heard her laugh softly. She kissed him, and her hand pressed to his hip. “You’ll last longer if you have an orgasm beforehand,” she murmured, and there was another kiss, and Riku wanted her to touch him again—the ache was almost painful where she’d let him go. “Let me?”  
  
He whimpered his assent, and she surprised him—she kissed him, once, and then down his chest, and Riku held his breath again, nearly bucking when she kissed the tip of him. “This okay?”  
  
He couldn’t make a noise, and instead nodded vigorously.  
  
She hummed, and then licked the tip of him, and Riku grabbed the sheets, afraid he was going to hurt her.  
  
She didn’t have to do much before he utterly _shattered,_ unable to keep from thrusting up in to her, but she held him by the hip to keep him down, and he let out a guttural moan of her name, clutching her hair, barely holding himself together enough to remember not to pull.  
  
She moaned around his length, and Riku grunted, but she pulled back carefully, watching him close his eyes, panting, and it made her _ache,_ because, really, Riku was _ridiculously_ attractive, and seeing him come undone, feeling him trusting her, it turned her on endlessly. The picture of him panting, utterly pleased with her affection, coming down from his high, was _also_ intensely attractive.  
  
She kissed his cheek as he settled, pleased with herself.  
  
“Are you alright?” Having seen the man take on Cloud and Leon without getting very breathless at all, to see him this way now…well, it did make her want to make sure.  
  
But Riku _picked her up_ and pulled her in to his lap, kissing her, and she was left moaning in his mouth, shifting restlessly against him. “Amazing,” he murmured, and he kissed her again, and again, and she had to break away, laughing softly, burying her head in his shoulder. She laid kisses against his skin, her fingers instinctively trailing along the edges of his muscles, feeling the way he breathed.  
  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she whispered, and she pulled back, kissing him again, but didn’t let him press deeper. “Thank you.”  
  
He was still coming off his high, even if his body was already reacting to her in his lap, wanting _more_ of her, and he was certain his heart would _never_ allow him to be more than a room away from her again. He _felt_ it—felt their bond strengthening, and he understood why.  
  
This was an act of trust—and giving themselves to each other, too.  
  
Riku ran his fingers up her back, feeling her arch away from his touch, and then she nuzzled his neck. “Pretty sure I should be thanking you,” he returned, as they settled, catching their breath, but Riku also had a feeling he _couldn’t—_ not until he had her, wholly, completely, until there was no space between them.  
  
“Not like we can’t both be grateful,” she teased, and her teeth bit in to his pulse softly, and Riku bucked. “God, you feel good,” she breathed, and she nipped behind his ear, and Riku had to fight to sit still. “The way you touch me—your lips on my skin, the way you _fit,_ like…” She paused, and she kissed him, and Riku moaned softly in her mouth, feeling her run her hand along his length. “You’re perfect for me,” she murmured.  
  
Riku was suddenly _very_ sure he couldn’t handle her in his lap—he was afraid he was going to pull her right on to him without warning and he was afraid he would hurt her, that way. So he lifted her, pressing her back in to the pillows, and stretched out above her, kissing her, and she reacted so _willingly,_ Riku couldn’t get enough of her. “Well, the same is true for you,” he said, feeling a little awkward, even if he knew it was true.  
  
But Riku still had his insecurities.  
  
Still, she smiled, and she pulled him to her, kissing him, running her fingers through his hair, and she pulled back, just looking at him.  
  
She looked _beautiful,_ watching him that way, a smile on her face, her eyes warm.  
  
Riku memorized it.  
  
She was, too—the wonder in his eyes, and even the hesitance, the slight insecurities, but the want and lust and _trust_ in his eyes, too.  
  
She settled in the bed, adjusting her hips, running her hands along his back. “It’s alright, honey,” she murmured, and she kissed him. “I’m ready, if you still want me.”  
  
It surprised even _him_ when Riku bent, kissing her, nipping her lip. “Of course I want you.”  
  
It wasn’t what he might have said if he let himself think too much.  
  
But that wasn’t him _thinking,_ that was him _feeling,_ and it was the first time in a _long_ time that he’d allowed himself to _not_ think.  
  
She laughed warmly, and she kissed him in return, but then, she paused, pressing her hand to his chest. “Wait. I, uh…” She had rolled toward her bedside table, reaching in one of the drawers. “I don’t think either of us are ready for a kid. Especially since…since you might be gone for a little while.”  
  
Riku reached for his heart, because it suddenly hurt _so badly,_ he felt like someone was trying to rip it out.  
  
It hurt so much that he leaned in and kissed her, swallowing whatever explanation she might have had, cutting her off, and when he broke away, _only_ because he could feel her getting lightheaded, he shook his head. “I don’t know if I can leave you,” he admitted.  
  
She looked surprised, and then she smiled. “I’ll come with you, if you let me, Riku,” she said, gently. “We’ll make that decision when the time comes.”  
  
He felt her hand press to his heart, and he realized he was panicking again, and he took several deep breaths.  
  
He didn’t truly understand all of this, but he knew, he _knew,_ he was so…enthralled in her, so bound up in the stability and _safety_ of her, how much she felt like _home,_ he almost couldn’t _think_ when she’d brought it up so suddenly.  
  
But she was right. They could deal with that when the time came.  
  
For now, he nodded, and she relaxed, leaning in for a gentle kiss. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”  
  
He shook his head, and he let himself sink down, just to take in her warmth. “Well, you’re right on one front—I _really_ don’t want you pregnant. Not with…not with all the danger,” he said.  
  
It felt so much better to say that than to put it in the air that he might _leave_ her, at this moment.  
  
She laughed. “Trust me, honey, I don’t want that. I don’t even know that I _want_ children, yet, so…” She nudged him, gently. “Sit up for a sec.”  
  
Riku obeyed her, and he realized that, despite the panic, his body was _still_ aching, wanting her. Her fingers touching him, pulling the birth control over him—it made him hiss through his teeth, and she kissed just above his navel, then on his heart, then his collar, and then up to his mouth. “Well, hon? You’re not going to make me take care of this myself, are you?”  
  
Riku grunted and lifted Asami back to her previous spot in the bed, and she laughed, and he kissed her. She responded hungrily, and Riku’s stomach clenched, and he gripped her hip just a little too tightly, but he couldn’t help it—she pulled him back from the brink and in to this moment with an astounding ease, and Riku took it in, memorizing the feeling, _knowing_ she would help him.  
  
He felt her pull her leg up, and it let him sink against her, and she was so _warm,_ it made him ache. He slid his tip along her slit, and she whimpered his name, and Riku almost _broke_ just for that.  
  
But then he pressed in to her, losing his breath when he felt how _hot_ she was around him, soft, and clenching as he pressed in to her.  
  
He dragged his eyes from watching himself fill her up to her face, and her mouth was open, her head thrown back.  
  
“Fuck! Riku,” her voice was a breathless, keening whimper, “fuck, you feel _perfect._ ”  
  
He pressed until he could go no deeper, and she whined his name, her cheeks flushing with color.  
  
Riku was absolutely certain he would _never_ forget this moment.  
  
She fit around him so perfectly, her body clenching him, rippling around him, and she was _hot,_ and despite his fear of hurting her, she seemed to feel _nothing_ but pleasure. She was already rocking her hips beneath him, and it made Riku pull back, just a little, before pressing himself back in, and she moaned.  
  
It took him a moment, still _adjusting_ to how she felt around him, the _noises_ she was making, but when he managed to think enough, he started a slow, shallow rhythm, just to let himself adjust.  
  
She almost instantly relaxed beneath him, letting out a soft sigh of pleasure, curling one leg around him, the other pulled up against his hip, and Riku’s breath caught. He sunk in to her a little deeper for the angle, and it made him lose his breath, just for a moment, before he leaned in to kiss her, hungry and _aching_ for more of her, for _all_ of her.  
  
She obliged him, tangling her fingers in his hair, letting out a moan when he thrust a little harder, her hold on him tightening. “Fuck, babe—” She whined, rocking in time with his thrusts. “You fill me up so well,” she murmured against his lips, and Riku’s stomach clenched.  
  
He moaned her name against her lips, and she pulled his hair a little, but he didn’t mind—he was afraid he was going to burst, as it was, and the soft twinge of pain kept him _grounded,_ and made him feel like he might last long enough to give her another orgasm.  
  
As he settled in to the feeling, he shifted his grip on her, moving his hand from her hip, up to her ribs, feeling her breathing as she moaned and whimpered, and then his hand moved again, finding hers, and she laced their fingers, and Riku felt his heart almost _stutter_ in his chest.  
  
He dipped his head to bite at her neck, and she responded enthusiastically, her whole body bucking up, right in to his thrust, and she tightened around him—he felt her shuddering beneath him, and she moaned his name in a way that made him feel like he might _die._  
  
“Mm—” She gasped, her moan interrupted when he nipped her again, and she clutched his hair with her free hand. “Fuck me faster, babe,” she whispered, and Riku felt like she’d shocked him, but he obeyed her—he wanted _more,_ too. Her leg tightened around him, and she let out a soft whine, and Riku felt her starting to ripple around him. “Mm, Riku!” The way she said his name, Riku thought he would come undone, just for _that,_ for how needy and _pleased_ she sounded. “Fuck! A little harder, I’m—” And here she stopped again, moaning, and Riku _realized_ what she wanted, he was starting to _feel_ it through their bond, and it made him feel so much more _pleasure,_ because Asami was definitely enjoying it. There wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t reacting positively—the feelings coming through were intensely pleased, and he _knew_ the only thing she wanted was _more_ of him.  
  
A feeling they shared.  
  
She felt _perfect_ around him, and he knew she was getting close—she was tightening around him, her body clenching with every thrust, her thighs tightening, and he _felt_ her holding back. He thought he might break before she did, but Riku wanted to give her his all—he wanted to wait for her.  
  
He dipped his head, finding her mouth, muffling a pleased, warm moan of his name, kissing her, despite their breathlessness. He bottomed out inside her, pressing deep enough to feel her twitch around him, and he rocked in to her, not enough to pull back, but just enough to make her whine his name, breaking away from the kiss.  
  
He moved the arm supporting him, curling it down, under her back, just to tilt her in to him, and she gasped, pulling at his hair. “Fuck! Riku—” She cut herself off, biting her lip, and Riku dipped back down to kiss her again, to _make_ her let out the noises she was holding back, especially when he began moving again.  
  
“I want to hear you,” he whispered, nipping her lip, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust. “I love your voice like this,” he murmured, honestly, and when she obliged him with a husky, soft moan, Riku squeezed her hand in his, trying to keep himself sane.  
  
Asami let out a series of moans and whimpers as he began to pick up his pace again, holding himself back, trying to push her over the edge. He felt it before she even asked, using his arm to keep her still, thrusting a little harder, and her free hand raked over his shoulder blade. “Babe, I’m so close—” the words were almost _begging,_ and Riku couldn’t help a soft, possessive growl from coming out of him, even as he dipped down, kissing her hungrily, then up her jaw, and back down to her neck.  
  
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he breathed against her skin, laying kisses over her pulse—it was hammering _so_ fast, but Riku _loved_ seeing her come apart like this. He bit at her neck, not too hard, but more than enough to make her moan even if he _wasn’t_ buried so deep inside her that she didn’t know where she ended and he began. “You can let go,” he said, echoing what she’d told him earlier, remembering how _powerful_ it sounded, how it’d nearly broken him to hear her say it. “I’ll take care of you,” he promised.  
  
He could give her what she _wanted_ and _needed,_ and he refused to break before he was certain she had reached her peak.  
  
He wanted to have more time to _explore_ her, he wanted to take the time to truly _learn_ her body, to figure out what she liked best, because Riku was learning, all too quickly, that he _adored_ how she reacted, saying his name, _needing_ him.  
  
He felt greedy for it, but he wanted to have his way with her to the fullest—he wanted to drive her absolutely mad, until all she knew was him and what he could do to her, until all she could think about was _him,_ until all she _wanted_ was **_him._  
  
**She was so slick around him that Riku wanted to see how far he could push her—he wanted to see her dripping with pleasure, wanted to know _exactly_ how to drive her to the brink and then take her over with all the want and need _he_ had for _her._  
  
He wanted to taste her, to feel her pull his hair when he was doing it _just right,_ to _know_ exactly how to _perfectly_ attend her desires, _all_ of them.  
  
He wanted to take her until she was exhausted and limp and _satisfied_ in the utmost.  
  
Asami could _feel_ the hunger and desire and _lust_ rushing through him, could _feel_ him holding back, she _knew_ he was at the breaking point, and holding back _just for her._ It made her head swim, because she _knew_ he wanted to attend to _her_ needs even more than his own.  
  
And him _encouraging_ her—promising her he was going to attend to _all_ her needs, not just _now,_ but in the future…  
  
It made her want to stretch it out, to feel him buried so intimately in her, to feel his pleasure coming through their bond—  
  
But hearing his low, husky voice telling her he was going to satisfy her in every way she wanted, and _knowing_ he meant it?  
  
She fought back her orgasm, just watching him, feeling the way he _moved,_ her eyes trailing down his chest, to the point where she could see him drawing back, gliding in to her with every thrust—  
  
She threw her head back, her mouth open, and Riku _knew._  
  
He trained his eyes on her face, and he _saw_ her break.  
  
It was the most _gorgeous_ thing he’d ever experienced.  
  
Her whole body tensed, thrusting up in to him, twitching and bucking, and her voice broke through to shout his name, but it devolved in to aching, breathless, _satisfied_ whimpers as she fell from the high, every other noise sounding like his name.  
  
Riku fucked her through her orgasm, slowing down, his thrusts sharper and deeper, and she twitched and rippled around him for a long time, even in her thighs.  
  
“Come on, babe,” her voice was breathless and aching and _warm._ “I want to feel you,” she begged, “I want to watch you again,” she begged, biting his lip, and he broke at last.  
  
He shuddered, bucking in to her a little too sharply, but she just let out a soft, surprised squeak, feeling the aftershocks burst through her. He spasmed and twitched as it broke through him in a torrent, riding out his orgasm, breathing her name against her skin, clutching her too tightly, squeezing her hand as he came undone.  
  
When he finally came down from the high, he was surprised he was breathing—his arms were wobbly, and he had the sense to let go of her hand, roll on to his back, and drag her with him, afraid he’d hurt her.  
  
She wound up straddling him, and let out a soft, delighted sigh, burying her face in his chest.  
  
It took several moments before either of them could speak, and she started with a low, satisfied groan. She laid kisses across his chest, up to his collar, and then his pulse. “You’re amazing,” she murmured, sounding…pleased, warm, and almost half-asleep. “That felt _perfect._ ”  
  
Riku let himself laugh, because…well, it wasn’t just _him,_ she’d helped him along. He curled his arms around her, stroking her hair, kissing the top of her head, because she was snuggled against his chest. “You sure I couldn’t have done better?” He decided to tease her, especially with her still lying atop him, her breathing not yet level.  
  
She laughed, this time, and she pulled one arm across his chest, resting her chin on it. “You might _actually_ kill me if you get any better at it,” she started, and she was grinning, “but I’d die happy.” When he laughed, she sat up a little, groaning, and he felt her shudder around him, her orgasm lingering even now, and it sent tingles through him, too. “Really, though…the way we are—the way this is, this will only get _better._ ” She was watching him, her eyes drifting over his face, memorizing the way his hair was stuck to his skin, the look of satisfaction and contentment in his eyes, the way his lips were swollen from her little bites. “You’re going to learn more as we go—you’ll learn to read me, figure out what I like, the best ways you can tease me,” she murmured, and Riku felt a knot in his belly again, especially with the way she was watching him. “It takes some practice, you know—which, really, we don’t need much.” She ran her hand along his pecs, trailing down his stomach, and Riku couldn’t help flexing under her touch. “But I definitely wouldn’t mind _plenty_ of practice.”  
  
Riku laughed, feeling…surprised, and _delighted,_ and maybe just a little overwhelmed.  
  
She was so…warm. Open. Giving. Even if she was definitely suggesting that she’d enjoy it, as well, she seemed to know—he _did_ have doubts, but she was…reassuring him.  
  
He reached up to lift her, and she groaned, but he sat up and pulled her close, in his lap once more. He dipped his head to kiss her, and she gave in willingly, leaning in to him, this kiss different from before.  
  
It was warm and lingering, slow and sensual, hungry, but…  
  
It was also sweet and soft and _loving,_ taking care with his sensitive lips, breaking for moments, before she leaned back in.  
  
She kissed him until it was not _Asami_ who was breathless, but Riku.  
  
Breathless in the best way, wanting more, but unable to keep up, wanting her, yet utterly satisfied, just holding her. He clutched her close as he gasped, feeling…overwhelmed. The kiss was just as satisfying as the sex, and yet they were total opposites.  
  
He kissed the top of her head, murmuring her name, stroking her hair, feeling her bare skin as he trailed to the ends of the long, dark strands.  
  
She hummed softly, leaving a soft, small kiss against his pulse as they sat in the quiet of the morning.  
  
They both took it in, relishing in the new feelings, and Riku suddenly understood what Yen Sid had left out about their bond.  
  
True that they hadn’t completed the _actual_ ritual, but there was something _more_ to this, and they could each feel it in the aftermath.  
  
They had grown closer than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, mostly smut—but hopefully _good_ smut.
> 
> Let me know if you guys liked it!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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